High Princes of Tirion
by Nemis
Summary: Sequel to "A Tale of Elrond and Celebrían", taking place on Aman in the Fourth Age. Chapter 39 is up (finally). Ereinion is nervous, Celebriníel refuses to worry, and then there is... a betrothal.
1. The House of Elrond

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**High Princes of Tirion**  
by Nemis

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**Disclaimer**: I'm only going to do this once, hoping it will stand for the rest of the chapters… 

It's not mine, not the characters, nor the settings, perhaps only a bit of the story-line, but that wouldn't, or couldn't, exist without the rest…

It all belongs to Master Tolkien…

**A/N**: Sequel to _A Tale of Elrond and Celebrían_. I could very well call this all Alternate Universe, but in a sense, since Mr. Tolkien never mentioned life on Aman after the end of the Third Age, we have a large amount of space to move in freely…

For the sake of making all this even more complicated, I've decided for my fic: 

Celeborn and Galathil were both the sons of Galadhon, who was the son of Elmo (brother of Elwë and Olwë), Nimloth was Galathil's daughter and wedded Dior, together having a daughter, Elwing…

The prologue relies much on the information given in Morgoth's Ring, Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth, 'The Converse of Manwë and Eru.' Even though the text seems to indicate otherwise, I assume even the re-made bodies of those who are rehoused start out as children.

Mr. Tolkien seems to have had several ideas concerning Elvish reincarnation; the earlier one spoke of only rebirth, the later one also speaks of rehousing (meaning: the fëa being placed into a copy of the former body, almost like genetic engineering, I would imagine). I have used the later theory of rehousing, because it seems to make more sense, and is easier for me to incorporate into the story.

Questions, remarks, can all be put to me… if something doesn't make sense, feel free to mail me, and I'll gladly try and explain…

Mîrlinde and Elernil are mine! (I finally have characters too! :))

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**Prologue    The House of Elrond**

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The morning was cold and dark; it was only because the lanterns were lit, casting shadows against the lonely walls of the unfinished structure, that the two Elves knew where precisely their destination lay. The early morning humidity only increased the chill, and Ereinion rubbed his hands together in order to make his blood stream faster.

'It is my personal experience, that being rehoused is likely as confusing as being reborn… I was allowed to make a choice upon leaving Mandos' Halls, but to this day I am still uncertain as to how exactly I came to decide between the two.'

Elrond nodded, changing the direction of the conversation somewhat.

'But in essence, rebirth or rehousing, they are both much the same; one starts out as a child either way. Identical, except for the fact that Ilúvatar allowed the Valar to oversee the re-housing of fëar, while tending to rebirth himself.'

'So it is said...' An early bird flew over, twittering loudly in the silence, and they both smiled. Ereinion seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then quickly cleared his throat. 'But I bid you remember that rebirth places pressure on the parents as well, since they do not beget a child entirely of their own, but rather a mixture of that and another fëa... Even if the other is kin, tis confusing, methinks. Then again, the entire process is confusing, and we were likely not meant to understand. The converse between Manwë and Ilúvatar is more than enough, so it is deemed.'

Their pace was slower than it would have been on any other occasion, perhaps because neither wished to conclude the conversation before it had reached a satisfactory ending. On the other hand, walking faster might have warmed them more.

'Do you suppose Manwë requested this audience with Ilúvatar as to get His consent? Permission?' Elrond asked, burying his hands in his pockets, looking at the other, who shrugged.

'One can interpret it as such. Manwë is careful, it seems his nature.'

Taking one hand out of a pocket again, Elrond raised it as a smile played around his lips. Though of the two Elves neither seemed to fit the description "aged", doing justice to their Firstborn heritage, he seemed the older of the two, invisible scars in his complexion indicating the influence of time spent in Arda Marred. Yet both their eyes betrayed experience beyond the mere facade of years.

'I suppose it has something to do with the Valar's removal of the Firstborn from Middle-earth. It _was_ where Eru had intended them, and the Valar went against His wishes then, apparently… Even if it was for a good cause, they did not ask for His council. Curious that Manwë does so now, but did not before… The decision seems equally important.'

Blowing warmth into his folded hands, Ereinion nodded.

'Hmm… Yes… I presume it is more of a test… Where you can consider the entire converse is about settling something, getting permission as you call it, it seems more of an indication that Eru trust the Valar. That their judgement is always his own, even though it may appear mysterious or unsound at times.'

'Is it not our nature to doubt our own abilities? And therefore also the nature of the Valar?' Elrond replied.

Laughing, Ereinion placed a hand on his shoulder.

'This could very well be… All I know with certainty is that I yearned for my corporeal form, that my fëa was naked, open, and could easily be read. Somewhere within was stored an imprint, a memory of my former body, and with that information the one I have now was created...'

As his friend turned silent, Elrond observed him quietly. Ereinion was physically older now then when they had first met, when he and Elros had been taken into the High King's care. It had been strange to see his friend turn into an identical version of the adult he had know long ago, to recognise familiar characteristics and habits, things that often, in his mind at least, seemed more connected with the past then the present.

He had recognised someone who had once been a father-figure, and it had left him with a sense of loss. Elrond had been confused in the beginning, uncertain whether he preferred the friend Ereinion to the High King Gil-galad.

That was before he had discovered there was indeed very little difference between the two. Still pondering that, he was surprised to hear himself break the silence. 

'Is it true you are not aware of your past when younger?' 

Elrond had wished to ask this question ever since they had met again, but it had never come in their many conversations, likely because Ereinion was still very much in the process of remembering, many bewildering thoughts interfering with his life here on Valinor. He doubted if this truly was the right moment.

But Ereinion smiled.

'You forget my father, and his father and my great-grandfather all went through the same... Especially my grandfather was careful to guide me through some very confusing years...' 

Ereinion looked at Elrond, and yet there was a faraway glance in his eyes when he went on. 'At first, when one is only in his or her thirties, you experience those memories that are most pressing... Often death, and the stay in Mandos... Together with the normal changes the body goes through, it is disconcerting, embarrassing even...' 

It had surprised Elrond initially that it had been Fingolfin Ereinion had grown so close to. Only later, through Celebrían, had he learned that Fingon himself had been too preoccupied with his own experiences to be much help to his son. _He did want to help_, Celebrían had said, _but he just couldn't at the time_. 

Evidently, Ereinion did not wish to speak of it. Still, instead of seeking the other workers, they sat down near the first fire they encountered. All in all, there were, depending on the day, between thirty and fifty Elves working on the new wing of the house. It reminded Elrond of building Lindon and Imladris; settlements which had arisen out of almost nothing, and would long be spoken of, perhaps even after their material demise. But this was just a house…

They were an hour's journey by horse removed from the outer rim of the city of Tirion, and already the presence of both the once Lord of Imladris and that of Lindon had attracted many others. At present, the space the new wing would provide was not yet needed, but it was better to plan ahead, Elrond thought. 

Ereinion's voice startled him, for Elrond had expected the conversation to have come to a standstill. 

'I would wake in the night,' he whispered, 'once again experiencing that which was inflicted upon me in Mordor…' A shiver made the Elf hunch his shoulders, and Elrond could not be certain if it was the early morning cold or the memory that caused it. 

'One does not understand these images at first, and fear they lie in the future, rather than in the past.' Ereinion's deep pleasant voice had turned somewhat detached. It seemed his way to distance himself from too vivid memories. 

'My grandfather, having experienced all this himself, many years ago, and having seen some of his kin go through the same, was very observant of me, very supporting. He explained all, prepared me as much as possible for what was to come. I... The return of my memories of the time I spent in the Halls was perhaps worst... It is disturbing, so many years being forced upon the mind in such a short time... The memory of the separation between body and spirit is... truly dreadful, but it does not last long, it is only a mere shred of pain, compared to that which follows. Then again, the mind is by design closely linked to the body, and where the stay in Mandos can indeed in reality last many years, the spirit, depending on its punishment, might not experience that time as it would had it still been linked.'

Carefully surveying the face of his oldest friend, Elrond came very close to understanding. Ereinion seemed loathe speaking of it all, but on the other hand did not appear to want to stop now. Suddenly there was a smile, and a thankful gaze in the grey eyes.

'There were certain faces, faces I did not yet recognise, that gave me much support... Yours was one, and Celebrían's was too... Your friendship went beyond Mandos and I shall always be grateful for that...'

With a shake of the head Elrond rose, extending a hand towards Ereinion. He had never been told this, and somehow it made him feel... He wasn't certain. Glad?

'Do not thank me for friendship... If you had not taken me into your care, been a friend, and much more... From good comes good, I believe.'

The other nodded slowly, taking the outstretched hand.

'We shall speak of this more, but not at present... The sun is rising, and we are the last to commence in our efforts.'

Elrond smiled, and looked over to where the bare frame of the new wing stood waiting to be finished. He shook his head, lost in thought for a moment. Building settlements had always indicated a new start, something entirely new... How come this felt like old times, past times? It hardly seemed something new.

'Is it not strange that, once again, there shall be a House of Elrond?'

Ereinion grinned, and put his arm around Elrond's shoulders.

'Not strange at all, methinks. Perhaps Aman needs it, like Middle-earth needed it.'

With a sideway glance, Elrond looked at him.

'Is there truly no urge for you to settle down and start your own House? It is your right.'

The Scion of Kings gave a comforting shake of the head.

'My House long ago became your House... I am content for it to stay that way...'

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fëa (plural: fëar): the soul, the spirit that is summoned to Mandos

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Dum-de-dum-de-dum.

I'll just say prologues are meant to be weird.

Would I pushing it if I said chapter 1 is almost ready? And very long? And I'm not in a hurry to post it?

Unless I get... you know, persuaded otherwise... :D

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	2. Homecoming (part one)

I want to thank everyone for reviewing! *throws chocolate elfies over to anyone who wants them*

My evil plot bunnies liked them very much!

So, as promised...

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**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

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**Chapter One Homecoming **(part one)****

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Elladan stood at the prow of the ship, the hand of the Elf beside him resting on his shoulder. 

Blankly observing the grey waves all around them, he considered he had finally grown somewhat accustomed to the ever-present salty smell of the sea-air. 

He hadn't looked back. Not when they had sailed away, and not ever during their journey.

It was all behind him now. And even though his parents waited there, somewhere in front of them, he could not help feeling the loss of what he had left behind.

Celeborn picked up on his melancholy and squeezed his shoulder gently, but did not speak.

The sails, not too far above them, sounded loudly, due to the wind straining them continuously, much like it playfully tugged at the strands of their unbraided hair, as the ship cut its way through the waters.

On the far end of the ship stood Círdan, seemingly staring into the distance. He had to be considering this was to be one of his last journeys as well.

_But what was truly left in Middle-earth to miss?_ he asked himself. _Perhaps your sister's children, but they have their own family, and do not need you. You have chosen. This is where you belong._ _And to see mother again..._

Passing the isle of Eressëa on their left, the eldest son of Elrond finally smiled.

'It shall be soon now, grandfather…' he spoke, before looking around. 'Where is Elrohir?'

Celeborn, too, turned, and it was then that a tall Elf, dark-haired and grey-eyed, appeared from somewhere behind the foremast, pacing after a small, equally dark-haired Elf-child, strides as certain as if he were walking on land, despite the waves throwing the ship around, making it descend deep, no sooner propelling it upwards again upon the mere fancy of a single wave.

'Elernil, _deri-ennas_!'

The boy, a mere eight years of age, stopped at once and waited for his father to pick him up. They joined the other two Elves by the ship's rail.

'_Ada_ has explained me more knots,' the boy proudly announced, and Elrohir watched the small fingers demonstrate the knowledge he had just acquired on a small piece of string, before he himself looked up at his grandfather.

'We are drawing near, if I am not very much mistaken…'

Celeborn smiled.

'Very true, we are nearly there. Mîrlinde is below?'

'She is still not well, but she finally sleeps... I shall wake her as soon as they begin to strike the sails. Glorfindel has joined Círdan, I believe, as did Erestor.' 

With a glance towards the afterdeck, Celeborn could indeed distinguish two other Elves having joined Círdan. 

Elrohir meanwhile pointed into the distance and his son attentively watched along his father's arm.

'That is where your grandparents are, Elernil.'

--~~*~~--

Celebrían moved light-footedly across the grass in search of her husband.

Above, _anar_ shone brightly at it's highest point, heating everything beneath it almost uncomfortably. 

Perhaps this had not been the best of days to work on the house. Then again, neither Elrond nor Ereinion would have considered postponing it, not even if it had rained, she suspected. This had been planned weeks ago already, before the latter had left for Formenos. 

Some errantry or other for his grandfather, he had mentioned.

_A strange thing_, she mused as she neared the part of the house that was under construction, _that Formenos was still such an important fortress, despite its terrible past…_

Ereinion didn't seem to mind, none of the High Princes appeared to. Still, the line of Fingolfin mostly inhabited Tirion at present. 

Even if its youngest High Prince seemed to have chosen Elrond's House as his home now. 

She smiled. How could she object? She hadn't minded his company when he had frequented the Gardens of Lórien, long before Elrond arrived, only a mere boy.

Very few people could get away with calling him the Elfling now, she mused with a smile. Elrond seemed the only one who teasingly kept bringing it up nowadays. 

And Ereinion allowed it. To some extent. 

Sometimes she thought their entire relationship was based on jesting, but then she would find them quietly sitting in a library, and she would be confronted with the fact that it was not.

But for now she just needed to find her husband. 

--~~*~~--

Elrond wiped away the sheen of sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He was near-hidden by the low wall on the second floor they had set up during the morning. A call came from below, and the tip of another wooden beam was handed up.

'Got it?'

'Got it!' He returned, feeling it being pushed up as he grabbed and lifted it. As soon as they would reach the next level, they would not be able to transport the materials in this manner anymore, and they would need to hoist it up with ropes, but for now, this did very well. For a moment it seemed as if he would loose grip, but strong gloved hands grabbed the wood near the balancing point and drew it further in.

Together they placed it beside the others and Ereinion frowned.

'Gloves, Elrond.' He pointed at the pair of discarded working gloves on the floor.

Elrond smiled broadly.

'Yes, sir.'

Removing one of his own gloves, the High Prince of Tirion threw it into the direction of the Master of Lore, who snatched it out of the air and swiftly cast it back to it's owner. With a teasing shake of the head, the Elf slipped it back on, securing the leather between the fingers, and turned to help the others. Elrond made to follow, when a call came from below.

'Elrond!'

He walked over to the edge of the wooden floor and looked down, slightly squinting against the persistent sun. 

'_Gwilwileth_?' 

Celebrían looked up. 

'Come down, _El-nîn_.'

Elrond grinned, and, resting his hand on the beam he had fastened earlier that morning, using it as support, he stepped over and lowered himself down. Celebrían stood by and watched, not entirely happy with this particular manner of descending.

Jumping down the last meters and landing safely, he came towards her with quick strides and, placing his arm around her waist, kissed her deeply before pointing towards the building site.

'What do you think?'

'I think you will do yourself grave injury some day soon.' she answered, subsequently putting her arm around him too.

'Hmm...' he replied, narrowing his eyes as if contemplating something. 'You might be correct.'

As Celebrían looked up at him, she noticed his broad smile, and playfully slapped him against the stomach.

'Promise me not to do so before your sons arrive…'

He turned serious almost at once.

'What do you mean?'

'Your father has sent a message that the ships are approaching.' she answered. 'Arriving this afternoon.'

For a moment, he could do nothing. This was where he had been longing for ever since he had arrived here, a reunion of as much of his family as was possible. But somewhere there was something darker. If they were returning, it had to mean that Arwen... 

He shook his head and tried to cast off the image, the thought. 

_You knew this would happen, meleth-nîn_, Celebrían reached out, and he replied with a nod. 

_You are wise, lady._

Then, drawing her into his arms, Elrond laughed, attracting some attention from the others working.

A familiar voice responded to it almost immediately. 

'Is there any chance you would kindly remove your arms from around your lady and return to the work at hand instead of leaving us to do all the heavy labour?'

Elrond turned towards the speaker, one arm still secured around his wife.

'The ship is docking this afternoon, Ereinion!'

With played exasperation the other Elf made a gesture of abandon.

'If I had to compensate for every time I heard that excuse…' Then he smiled. 'Go then, we'll finish up for the day.'

_So the moment had arrived_, the High Prince judged, as he watched them stand. _Either everything changes now, or it does not, but I fear it shall change, and my only hope is that it does so positively._ He wondered if he was afraid to be sent away. 

_Does friendship end because of family?_ he rebuked himself. _Of course not._

'You will come to the feast tonight?' Elrond called up, catching Celebrían's hand and on the verge of leaving for the main house. 

There was something Ereinion could feel emanating from Elrond, far removed as he was; a feeling of both joy as well as sadness. Then he remembered. The sons coming home was also the end of a daughter's life, most likely. He tried to smile comfortingly.

'I wouldn't miss it for the world, _meldir_. I wish to see if these boys of yours are as impressive as you make them out to be.'

'They are,' Elrond returned, but not loud enough for him to hear. He smiled at Celebrían. 'They are.'

As she lay her arm around his waist they began their way back in silence. 

Celebrían softly stroked Elrond's side as she silently spoke to him, about Arwen, about love. 

_I would have given up immortality for you. _

He smiled in return.

_And I for you._

_But how easily is it for us to speak these words, though,_ he heard Celebrían say. _We were never truly confronted which such choices._

He did not answer, and they spoke of another person, one that Elrond had known back in Imladris, when there had not even been a hint of what had come to pass after his departure. Or, perhaps, he had simply been too preoccupied to notice at the time.

'What I remember is that she was always singing,' Elrond grinned.

Celebrían only chuckled.

Arriving at the house, she hurried him into their chambers.

'A bath is waiting for you, I shall collect you some clothing.'

Nodding, Elrond began to unbutton his tunic. Then he stopped.

'Have you send word to the Gardens?'

Smiling positively, his wife closed a cabinet door after gathering what she had promised. 

'I believe a messenger was already underway... Still, mother will not know before tomorrow. And then again, I would not dare predict if my father would travel to Lórien or she would come here instead...'

Abruptly Celebrían halted. Noticing her waver as he started towards the next chamber, Elrond turned.

She looked at him, a trace of doubt marring her joyful appearance, his clothing pressed against her chest.

'He will be coming with them? I mean... He would not stay behind, would he?'

Elrond smiled, coming towards her.

'They are coming home, _meleth-nîn_.'

He looked at her and ran his fingers through her hair. They were both preoccupied, and he understood that even though they had known this day would come, it had been impossible to truly prepare for. The only thing they could do now was act as normal as possible, and speak of this later, when there was more time.

With a smile, he placed his hand on her cheek and gently stroked her lower lip, forcing himself back to the matters of the moment. 

'The feast, you already informed the kitchen?'

Celebrían gave him a raised eyebrow.

'What do you _think_?'

'I _think_ you are marvellous.' He grinned, quickly pressed his lips against hers, and made for the bathroom.

With a smile she watched him go, before laying out his clothing and leaving to see to some last preparations.

--~~*~~--

They had never visited Máhanaxar together before, and Celebrían considered it to be significant that this was the first time. Though the splendour of the Halls made it near impossible not to render any visit significant.

Carrying a soothing smile on her lips, she squeezed Elrond's arm. Ever since he had left the bath he had been nervous. Not that she was one to judge, since she was equally anxious to see her sons again, only hiding it better.

Neither of them usually wore garments as ceremonial as those they had on today; the special light bringing out all the different hues in the blue material. Elrond's tunic and trousers underneath were nevertheless grey, a colour they both often wore nowadays. It reminded Celebrían of Imladris, making her wonder how soon indeed they would be forced back to those old ways, their House slowly becoming a place of importance once more.

When her eldest son entered, his eyes found hers at once, and immediately after he indicated to his companions where his parents stood, he stormed towards her and Elrond. Celebrían recognised weariness, could see pain that had not been there when she had last seen him.

Releasing her husband's arm just in time to be caught in her son's tight embrace, she answered it with equal fervour. 

'Elladan…'

He did not speak as his thoughts flooded over her, and she tried to hold him even closer, desperate to give him that which he had missed so much. Finally they released each other, and as he stepped towards his father, her other son came into view… 

They had received news of the betrothal of their youngest and the subsequent marriage, but no one of the arriving Elves had mentioned anything about children... A small dark-haired child hid behind his mother.

It took Celebrían by surprise, but not so much as to be taken aback. After embracing Elrohir, she smiled at the dark-haired Elf-lady beside him, catching her hand shortly before embracing her too. 

Was it predictable that Elrohir had been captivated by a Noldorin lady? No doubt her beautiful features, and the friendly but intense grey eyes had had something to do with it too, she considered. 

'You must be Mîrlinde...' 

The Elf-lady smiled and bowed her head courteously. 

'I am, Lady Celebrían... May I introduce you to your grandson, Elernil?'

The boy stole a look from behind her dresses, before being swept up by his father, who seated him on his arm. Celebrían found that the boy very much resembled her sons at that age; similar dark, perceptive eyes, the same physique... Evidently overcoming his shyness, the elf-child extended a small hand, grinning broadly.

'Mae govannen, daernaneth.'

'Well met indeed, Elernil.' Celebrían smiled as she caught it within her own. 

Elrond smiled at Mîrlinde, then at Celeborn, who placed his hand on Elrohir's shoulder.

When Celeborn's eyes met those of his daughter, Elrond motioned Elrohir to come nearer, so the two would have a little space. They stood silently for a moment, silent conversation more than obvious, but finally Celebrían flung her arms around her father's neck and Celeborn caught her in his arms.

'I promised to bring them, did I not?' he whispered, stroking her hair.

She smiled, resting her head against his.

'You did, and I should have known you would...' Celebrían tried to control her breath, knowing tears lay very close to the surface. She withdrew a little and looked at her father intently. 'Mother... I believe she is still in Lórien...'

'I know, my little one, do not fret about it.' Celeborn replied, sounding less disappointed then his daughter. He smiled broadly. 'Your mother, she has a way of finding me.'

With a content groan Elrohir let his father embrace him, Elernil now seated on Mîrlinde's arm.

'Forgive me for marrying without you and mother being present?' he asked softly, the plea only meant for his father's ears. 

Elrond pulled back and shook his head.

'How can I not forgive you?' he said, embracing his son again, before continuing in a whisper. 'If there would indeed be need to forgive, which I do not believe there is.' Withdrawing, he smiled. 'Now let me take a look at my grandson.'

Mîrlinde handed Elernil over and Elrond raised an eyebrow at the boy, who seemed to be intently studying his grandfather's face.

'How did you like the ship?'

Elernil grinned proudly. Elrond was suddenly confronted with a vision of Elrohir riding a horse for the first time, reins clasped firmly in small fists, the same proud grin on his face.

'Ada taught me more knots.'

'He did? Now this is something we can use around the house, wouldn't you say?'

The elf-child nodded. Then he narrowed his eyes.

'Are you really my ada's ada?'

Smiling broadly, Elrond glanced at Elrohir and they exchanged an amused look before he answered.

'I am.'

'My ada tells stories about you…'

Laughing, Celebrían joined them, having observed the exchange together with her father, and placed her hand on Elrond's arm. Her eyes glimmered at the sight of her grandson.

'And do you enjoy them, Elernil?'

'Very much,' the boy answered his grandmother, a blush on his cheeks caused by all the attention. Celebrían smiled and bent towards him.

'Good, because I think I would enjoy hearing them very much as well.'

He smiled at her and Elladan chuckled. Elrond, unable to hide his own grin, nodded towards the other end of the hall.

'There is someone else I wish you all to meet.'

Elwing would have been perfectly content to merely observe the reunion of her son's family, feeling very much she shouldn't intrude. But her heart jumped as Elrond broke from the group, or rather led it, coming towards her.

'Mother, meet Elernil. Elernil, this is my mother, Elwing.'

As Celebrían had, Elwing caught the extended hand the boy politely offered her.

'Hello, Elernil.'

'Hullo.'

The Elf-lady smiled at Celebrían, who had joined them now too, together with her sons.

'And here are Elladan and Elrohir.' she said, leading them forward a little, as if the grown Elf-lords needed a push in the back.

Visibly taken aback, Elwing allowed her eyes to study the faces of the generations before her. Elernil had something that reminded her of her own sons, possibly because he was very close to the age they had been when she had last seen the both of them together.

Both her grandsons seemed the perfect blending of their parents, dark-haired like their father, the same clear grey eyes, with Celebrían's delicate features, faces elven-fair.

Sporting a radiant smile, Elladan embraced his grandmother, with somewhat surprising enthusiasm. Elrohir followed his example without delay.

'It is good to finally meet you, daernaneth,' he smiled. 'And very fitting that this happens on the day my son, too, meets his grandmother for the first time.'

Celebrían nodded with a content expression on her face, placing her arm around Elladan.

'The day is a very fitting one overall, I would say.' she said, looking up at him.

Celeborn, meanwhile, greeted Elwing with a broad smile.

'It has been a long time, Lady.' he said, catching her hands amiably.  

'Far too long, Lord Celeborn...' Elwing replied, shaking his hands with fervour. 

'And how is my brother? Well, I hope?' he asked, looking at her intently, as if perhaps he was able to read the answer from her face already. 

'Well indeed, he lives by the shores of Araman now.' she assured him.

He nodded slowly.

'A long way from here.'

Elwing smiled.

'Not that long...'

Still holding his grandson upon his arm, Elrond's eyes met those of one of his closest and dearest friends. Carefully, he lowered Elernil down onto his own feet, and, not taking his eyes of the other, slowly began to make his way through the hall.

Nearing, both anticipated the embrace and opened their arms for the other, a fluent movement.

'For a moment, I thought you had not come.' Elrond spoke softly, patting the Elf's back.

'There was no reason for me to stay in Middle-earth... Not anymore.' the other answered as he pulled away, catching Elrond's lower arms. 'Tis good to see you, mellon-iaur.'

'And you, Glorfindel, and you... Be welcome in my house, as you always have been, if it so pleases you...' Then, Elrond extended a hand to Erestor, who had entered too, only moments ago. 'And you too, mellon-istui.' He embraced him with equal sincerity, withdrawing to look at them both for a moment. Then he extended an arm.

'Come, you must greet Celebrían and Elwing...'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Elernil: star prince (Sindarin)

deri-ennas: stay there (Sindarin)

Ada: dad, father (Sindarin) 

Mîrlinde: treasured tune (Sindarin)

anar: the sun (Sindarin)

gwilwileth: butterfly (Sindarin)

El-nîn: my star (Sindarin)

meldir: friend (male) (Sindarin)

meleth-nîn: my love (Sindarin)

Máhanaxar: the Ring of Doom, near the gates of Valmar, where the Valar sat in council

daernaneth: grandmother

mellon-iaur: old friend (Sindarin)

mellon-istui: learned friend (Sindarin)

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

The trouble was, I was rather enthusiastic when rewriting my early chapters. So I have divided what was to be the first chapter into two, and only need to write the ending for that second part.

It also tells me this is probably not going to be a short story overall. I'm having far too much fun with it.


	3. Homecoming (part two)

A/N: I dedicate this chapter to two people: the conversation between Elernil and Ereinion is for Gwilwileth, and the final part is for my fellow Deirty Girl Tamaril, due to a little nudge into the direction of a harp... ;)

The ending is slightly R-ish, nothing big though, and I've marked the beginning and ending.

Another thing, for those who thought the title of High Prince is canonical; it's not not. I made it up.

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**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

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**Chapter Two Homecoming **(part two)

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Ereinion watched the procession move towards the stables, and tried, from his high position on the roof, to discern some of the Elves among it. With a smile he called to the others below.

'Perhaps it is best we all cease our labour now, and welcome the guests.'

Climbing down he began making his way across the grassy meadow, up the hill, and started counting the horses, before raising his hand in greeting and recognition. 

It was Elrond who first returned it, but as the High Prince neared the group, Glorfindel too, sounded an enthused greeting.

'I should have known you would be here.'

Ereinion smiled and began walking parallel to the riders, who would be dismounting as soon as they had reached the stables and house. Celeborn was the next to call to him.

'So, what designation do you go by now?' The question was in jest, and Ereinion smiled broadly.

'_My Lord_ will do fine, Celeborn. As it always did.'

Laughter came from the group and both Elladan and Elrohir returned the nod they had received from the Elf, unknown to them. His broad smile, which was strangely familiar, never seemed to waver.

'Celebrían, your husband did not exaggerate, you have fine sons there.'

Elladan observed his mother's beam, as the Elf-lord, for that much he had been able to make out, seemed to take a shortcut across the hill, no doubt to meet them down at the house.

When they finally reached the stables, the Elf indeed already present, Elrond seemed anxious to introduce them.

'Ereinion, meet Elladan and Elrohir...' He motioned Mîrlinde closer as Elrohir bowed his head solemnly. The Tales of Gil-galad had been a large part of the twins' childhood world, their parents never shying from anecdotes and stories about the High King.

'My Lord Gil-galad?'

The Elf gazed upon him for a moment, before giving a solemn nod.

'The title was given a long time ago, and those were very different times then. Now I am simply Ereinion...' He shook the hands of his friend's sons with a pleased expression.

Elrond raised an eyebrow.

'He forgets to tell he is also a High Prince of Tirion now...' With a warning look, Ereinion cautioned Elrond in case he intended to add to this title with a more recent _epessë. '... and a house-builder.'_

Relieved, Ereinion nodded, as he smiled at Mîrlinde.

'Not a very good one at that, but I suffice in carrying timber. You must be Elrohir's lady... We have imagined much what you were like. Be welcome.'

He narrowed his eyes when he spotted the small boy, a hand clasping his father's trousers.

'And who is this? The third generation of the House of Elrond?'

Squatting, he extended a hand to Elernil, who took on a relieved smile and came forward to catch it.

'You remind me a little of your grandfather when he was younger... Though I imagine you resemble your father more. I am called Ereinion. I like your shirt.'

'I am Elernil… ' The young boy blushed, looking down at the silver stars on his blue tunic. 'I liked the stories about Aeglos.'

A chuckle rippled through the bystanders and Ereinion grinned.

'Did you know I actually named my first horse like that?'

Elernil's eyes grew large.

'Can I see it?'

Ereinion pressed his lips together.

'It passed away some years ago, I am sorry to say.'

The Elf-child nodded.

'Do horses go to Mandos too?'

Mîrlinde looked at the Elf-lord, afraid her son would somehow offend with these questions, but his glimmering eyes had not left the young one's face.

'I am not certain, because I was not very observant concerning such things… Hmm… But I suppose they do. Though perhaps not in the same manner as you and I would.'

Breathless, Elernil nodded and Ereinion rose, looking at Elrond, who had observed the conversation amusedly.

'Very well. We go inside?'

'We do.' Elrond smiled.

--~~*~~--

Celebrían rested her head against Elrond's shoulder as they were seated on one of the benches that stood in the tranquil gardens of the house. She listened to his voice resonating in his chest as he spoke. Somewhere, far away, the sound of the still-continuing feast could be distinguished. They had slipped away a while ago.

'We both came here more or less alone too… Still, your father must be disappointed. I was disappointed too, when I had to travel all the way to the Gardens of Lórien.'

Looking up, she smiled at the confession. He seemed truly worried at the moment, and she wondered whether she should share her father's words with him. Because he had been right. Of course her mother had already known he was coming.

'I do not think you need to worry about it, El-nîn. My mother has a way of being foresighted.'

'And what is that supposed to mean?' Elrond replied, a little vexed, crossing his arms over his chest.

'Nothing,' Celebrían grinned, as she sat up, kissing him on the cheek. 'Nothing at all…'

Chuckling, she moved her lips closer to his, soft caresses that she knew he couldn't resist. The master of the House indeed quickly forgot his slight irritation as he found his lady's lips with his own.

--~~*~~--

Without being conscious of his son-in-law's worries for him, Celeborn searched through the minimal belongings he had brought with him from Middle-earth. He had his wedding-ring safely around the index-finger of his right hand, but he was uncertain where he had left the silver ring Galadriel had worn during their betrothal, her gift to him upon their marriage.

He had not accidentally left it, had he? _Of course not..._ Or had it perhaps...

If he indeed had, _which was probably not the case_, he assured himself, it would be forever lost...

A hand on the small of his back made his heart skip a beat. He turned with a smile.

'Celebrían, you scared me, will you not...'

But it was not his daughter that stood behind him.

'And so Celeborn the Wise returns to the Blessed Realm...' 

'So it seems, my Lady.' he nodded, holding in his hand, as if by chance, the object he had been searching for.

The Elf-lady nodded at the silver band.

'Do you still keep it as close as you used to, long ago?'

Celeborn smiled.

'I try to… Much as you keep yours, I assume.'

The profundity of her eyes only seemed to have deepened since her own arrival here, and somehow, the weariness that had once been there, that he had seen grow during long years, had disappeared.

Like his daughter had healed, like Elrond had healed, Galadriel too, had healed. Was he himself in need of such curing? he wondered. Offering her his hand, it was gracefully accepted.

'Im melesse tye, Alatariel…' he spoke softly, though there was no need for it; they were alone in the room.

'Allow me to heal thee, my Lord…' Galadriel whispered back, before gently kissing him.

Giving in without having to think, Celeborn felt her peacefulness envelop him and could do nothing but give in.

Withdrawing, he locked his gaze upon her face, his voice tired when he used it after a long while.

'I am weary indeed, _meleth-nîn_...' he looked at her and ran a finger along her cheek. 'Can you heal me?'

Smiling, Galadriel embraced him, and as he felt her lips gently meet with his, he answered, realising if anyone was able to heal him, he was now in her arms.

--~~*~~--

The soft tunes of some soothing music half-woke Elrond from his sleep. Drowsily he reached out for Celebrían, but found her gone. 

Rolling out of bed he sat on the side for a moment, before rising entirely and entering the next room. There he found her, back turned towards him, sitting next to the window.

Her fingers almost did not seem to touch the wires of the instrument before her, and Elrond knew the wind had much to do with the harmonics of the harp, and that Celebrían was greatly aware of it too.

Possibly therefore she was not aware of him.

An almost simple melody carried through the rooms, plain, were it not for the depths of memories that lay beneath it. It seemed to unfold itself with a certain hesitance, as if forbidden, or feared unsound. Perhaps the quality was even more calming because of it.

It was one of Arwen's childhood lullabies, one of those that Celebrían had composed herself, like mothers do. 

Elrond did not recognise it immediately; it lay too well hidden within a greater theme.

As smoothly more harmonies were introduced, he noticed there was indeed some aural uncertainty in the music, tension even. Very softly, as if her voice would almost not carry the tune further than a whisper, Celebrían began to hum along, slowly, pensively throughout. 

Approaching quietly, Elrond watched her intently. He wished to reach out, to tell her he knew, he understood, and that it did not matter, that this sadness was allowed. Bringing up a hand to guide silver hair behind an ear, he bent down to kiss her temple, before sitting down behind her. 

Arms encircled her, and his fingers found well-known strings to accompany her. As arms and bodies brushed against each other, he felt her sit back. 

Celebrían felt the warmth of his body settling against her. She had not heeded her surroundings since she had risen, not expecting her lover to wake, not paying much attention to the touches of his mind upon hers, knowing them to be part of his dreams.

Or perhaps this was a part of her dream... Perhaps she slept still...

Kissing her bare shoulder, Elrond plucked the instrument's strings, trying to remember how long it had been since they had shared it. Cutting short his playing after a while, he moved his ministrations elsewhere.

Her belly soared as he touched it, and the heat shot up into her face and ears, she could feel its rush. Resting his face against her bare skin, she recognised the warmth of one who had only recently woken from slumber.

Softly stroking her abdomen, Elrond lay his other hand on her thigh, slowly pulling up the soft material that was now positioned between his fingers and her skin. His lips had already found the tender flesh of her neck.

Wanting his comfort, wishing to be taken into the warmth, Celebrían left the instrument to the devices of the wind.

Turning and rising she felt Elrond retract his hands from her body, and found in his eyes a fear if having somehow offended.

With a smile, she caught his lips with her own. Moving his hand up her thigh, he sighed, relieved, feeling her hands in his hair, hearing her respond likewise. Cold fingers moved to his neck, softly caressing the sensitive skin there, as they exchanged soft kisses.

Catching one of his wandering hands, she pulled him up, and led him back to their bed.

--~~*~~--

Here starts the R-ish part.

--~~*~~--

There, she leisurely helped him remove his clothing, every once in a while yielding to his entreating lips. Elrond returned the favour gladly.

Together they settled into the bed they had both left previously. 

Lying down against her, he began kissing her gently, not the breathless kisses he gave her when he had first arrived on Aman, but more languid, comfortable ones.

Still, Celebrían felt their heat on her skin, and she closed her eyes, arching her back a little, pushing her breasts up against his chest. This was what she wanted, yearned for; the simple embrace of husband and wife, for her lover to take her and keep her. He was warm, his entire body was very, very warm. And soon, she sighed happily, he would be _burning_ against her, burning _within_ her...

Elrond smiled and moved down a little, sampling a nipple with wet lips, licking and softly biting, until he heard her gasp softly, burying her hands in his hair.

Leaving the rigid nipple, he descended further, pressing lips and tongue against her, tasting her milky-white skin, taking in her scent. How he loved her, still, always, how she completed him, he thought.

He felt a finger follow the rim of his ear, up the tip and down again, as she shifted beneath him, sighing deeply, rubbing his shoulders, pushing up against him, informing him, nay, beseeching him, to come to her.

Seeing a fire had lighted her cheeks, he recognised the same flames that were ablaze in his loins. 

He moved up to meet her lips again, allowing her tongue entrance, before completing their bond finally. As soon as he did, he felt her muscles tighten around him, delightfully tense.

'Ahhh, _melethril_...' he whispered, and she smiled breathlessly, her hands on his waist, waiting there, lightly.

Her ragged breath excited him and he found his own matching it, as they began moving in unison, a rhythm perfected over the years, a steady pace, since there was no real hurry... Then Celebrían groaned and pressed her thighs against his waist, moving her hands to his back, claiming his lips mercilessly, her mouth ravaging his. He gasped, but the sound was smothered as the kiss endured.

Suddenly, Elrond felt hot, felt sweat trickle down his back, as Celebrían pulled him closer, deeper within her...

He moaned hoarsely as she locked him into an even tighter embrace, his thrusts increasing, his only wish to feel her warmth around him, around _more_ of him... 

Celebrían felt him turn into blistering heat. Tongues duelled for a more complete penetration, as hips drove against hips, Elrond pushing down, and she up.

Groaning, neither was willing to end the merging of lips, not even to breathe. Then Celebrían gasped and he felt her tremble beneath him, releasing his lips entirely, arching her body, lifting her hips a little, her head thrown back in abandon. Not a breath later, he plunged after her and felt her shudder underneath him once more, as he spilled deep within her.

--~~*~~--

Here ends the R-ish part.

--~~*~~--

Resting his forehead against her, he felt wet lips press themselves against his shoulder, as she stroked his back, her breath, still as irregular as his own, pleasing on his skin.

Feeling sleep overcome her, Elrond too, gave in.

The last thing he heard, far away it seemed, was the wind playing softly with the strings of the harp.

If something had been different this evening, this night, between them, in the way it had only happened twice before, neither of them had been aware of it...

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epessë: "after name"

Im melesse tye, Alatariel…: (Quenya) I love thee, Alatariel (Alatariel is Telerin for "Maiden Crowned with a Radiant Garland")

meleth-nîn: my love

melethril: lover (female)

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*laughs evilly* 

Come on, that was a dead give-away as to how this is going to continue...


	4. Days of Happiness

**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

Aurehen is mine… Haha!

Quick A/N: Everybody stop worrying about Ereinion... Trust me here. ;)) He'll be fine.

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**Chapter Three    Days of Happiness**

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Celebrían fidgeted anxiously over her garments, long fingers flying over already fastened buttons, toying with fabric over and over. Aurehen watched her with a raised eyebrow, knowing she could have, and probably had been ready for at least half an hour.

'Ah!' sounded an angry exclamation as the Elf-lady turned, dropping herself into a chair, first sitting back, then leaning forward, placing her elbows on her knees in agitation. 

'My Lady, what is it that vexes you so?' Aurehen tried again, but Celebrían shook her head and reached for a pillow from the next seat, placing it on the arm of the chair and resting her head upon it, a trace of tears in her eyes.

'Shall I send for Master Elrond?' the maiden asked.

A shake of the head.

'He is busy... And I shall be fine in a moment.'

It was strange. Normally Celebrían was resolved and steady, as befitted the Lady of the House, but now, she was all but that. Not truly ill, though, Aurehen gathered, Celebrían's behaviour rather indicated there was a psychological explanation for her behaviour.

'Your mother perhaps?' she tried.

Blue eyes flamed.

'Don't you dare.' Celebrían spoke softly, though there lay an unmistakeable tone of warning in the voice.

'Would you lie down, then?'

Considering it for a moment, the Elf-lady finally nodded.

'Perhaps I shall...'

Offering her arm, Aurehen helped Celebrían towards the bed, and, as she lay down, stroked the silver tresses of hair, waiting until her mistress's breath had slowed, indicating a more peaceful condition.

Then she quietly left the room and went to find one of the Lord of Imladris's attendants. It was harder than usual, since most of the men in the house had been enlisted by either Elrond or Ereinion to work at the building-site, not far removed.

Deciding to leave one of the younger Elven ladies staying in the House just outside the chambers where Celebrían rested, Aurehen ran to the location where the new wing was constructed herself.

But how would she be able to convince Elrond to come, since there, in truth, was no precise reason? 

Meanwhile, Galadriel walked through the gardens, her mind on her daughter.

She felt Celebrían's anxiety but realised all too well that within lay a warning for her not to react, making it something her daughter wished to deal with on her own.

Did what had happened surprise the Lady of the House? 

The former Lady of the Galadhrim had been surprised herself when she had felt her own longing for her husband.

She had missed Celeborn, had missed his support, his voice ever-present in her mind.

This was logical. Even though they had spent many years apart during the years of their marriage, there had always been a whisper of him in her mind.

Not so after reaching Valinor. Then again, it had not truly been necessary.

What had not been logical was the longing she had felt for his hands, his lips, the urge she had long thought gone. She smiled as she recalled their first night, when both she and Celeborn had given in fully to the urge.

Perhaps it was therefore that it did not surprise her in the least that Elrond and her daughter had felt the same. For one, their marriage was younger, and the separation between them had been more abrupt and longer. One could consider their marriage had started anew, when Elrond had arrived here. 

And with it, it seemed, the Days of Happiness also...

As Aurehen reached her destination, Lord Elladan was the first she caught sight of.

'I need to find Master Elrond.' she spoke, out of breath, and somewhat uneasy that it had to be this particular son of Elrond she should speak with.

'You found him,' the Elf-lord smiled, as he pointed towards the third floor roof of the lower part of the structure. 'But if you also wish to speak with him, a problem might arise.'

Elladan could not help smile at the lady who was possibly one of his mother's closest friends. When she only weakly returned it, he gathered Aurehen had indeed come in haste to speak earnestly with his father. Then again, he slightly admonished himself, he should have deducted it from her ragged breath and flustered face in the first place.

'It is not something of which you can speak to me?' he enquired. 

Aurehen shook her head.

'I can merely say it involves your mother, my Lord.'

Elladan raised an eyebrow. If this was so, why had his mother not come herself? Unless she was not able to come in person...

'Is she well?' he queried, sounding somewhat worried.

'I merely wish to speak with Master Elrond... Please?'

With an understanding nod, he brought his fingers to his lips and whistled shrilly.

'_Adar_!' 

Elrond edged towards the rim of the roof and peered down.

'Elladan? Is something the matter?'

'You need to come down. At once.'

Elrohir appeared on one of the lower floors and called down to his brother.

'Is something wrong?'

'It concerns mother.'

Aurehen cringed at the volume of the exchanges.

The last sentence had made a silver-haired Elf appear seemingly out of nowhere, as Elrond scrambled down dangerously fast. Before long, four male Elves stood around her, and she only dared to glance at Elrond.

'She... I did not wish... Lady Celebrían did not wish me to call you, but I thought it better…'

Elrond did not wait for any further explanation as he started into the direction of the main house, first with quick paces alone, then running as fast as he could. 

Her fear of not being able to convince him of the gravity of the situation had just turned full-circle on Aurehen.

The Lord Celeborn looked at her.

'Is my daughter unwell?' 

Aurehen was well aware of the close relationship between this particular father and daughter, and decided on a straight reply.

'She seems restless in her daily manners, my Lord, and she is asleep now, when usually she is busy and going about her responsibilities at this time of day. But I cannot say she is unwell in actual fact…'

Placing his hand on her arm, he motioned her into the direction Elrond had just taken off in. Elrohir made to join them, but Celeborn waved him back.

'Inform Ereinion where we went... If something _is_ wrong, we shall send word, but for now, simply meet us back at the house around noon. Agreed?'

'Very well,' Elladan nodded, even though neither he nor his brother seemed very comfortable with assenting to the proposal. They stood silently, watching the two Elves walk off.

Elladan bit his lip, his eyes fixed on where the House stood in the distance.

'How about you go and tell Ereinion,' he told his brother.

'What must I tell him?' Elrohir replied.

'Whatever it takes to convince him to go to the House.'

Elrond sprang up the front steps of the house and made his way through the halls swiftly, his worries preceding him. Was it possible she was ill again? Ill like she had been that last year in Middle-earth? If so, why hadn't he noticed? Of course she had seemed a little restless the past week, but he had not thought anything of it... Such a fool he could be, being preoccupied with the mere raising of a structure...

He brushed past some attendants and found one of them somewhat panicky in front of the chambers he and Celebrían shared.

'What is the matter?' he asked, hardly slowing down and entering the bedroom before receiving an answer.

There he found Celebrían near tears, sitting on the side of their bed.

With a single look he accomplished the speedy disappearance of the two ladies that had been with her, and descending upon his knees, he caught her hands.

'Tell me, Celebrían, _meleth-nîn_… What is it?'

Flinging her arms around his neck she pulled him close, and he tightly answered the embrace.

'Whatever it is, all is well now, and I am here...' he shushed, stroking her back.

All she did, as she withdrew, and all she really needed to do, was take his hand and place it on her abdomen. They sat in that fashion for a while, staying silent, but speaking almost continuously.

_How long has this been?_

_Almost a full cycle of the moon, but I did not pay attention to it, I was preoccupied..._

_I was too, gwilwileth, and I am sorry for it..._

_This cannot have come about just like this, El-nîn..._

_Perhaps we both wished it unbeknownst even to ourselves, and therefore it was so..._

_You wished this too?_

_Of course, my Celebrían, was there ever any doubt in your mind?_

And with that answer, he placed a tender kiss upon her lips

Celeborn observed them with Aurehen from the doorway. Quietly, a hand was placed on his arm before it slipped down to entwine with his fingers. Galadriel rested her cheek against his shoulder, before gently pulling him from the doorway.

'Did you know?' he asked her quietly, but her only response was a smile.

As they began making their way down the hall, a flash seemed to emerge from one of the adjoining chambers and Elernil came running by and waved in their direction.

'Elernil, where are you going?' Celeborn called after him.

'To find grandfather.' sounded the reply, as the boy disappeared around the corner. For a moment, both the Elves seemed to contemplate their actions, but then they turned as one and quickly followed their great-grandchild.

They arrived too late, finding Elernil already curiously eyeing Celebrían, Aurehen trying to decide whether to remove the child or leave him be.

'You have a hurt in your belly?' he asked his grandmother, a little worried.

'Not really,' Celebrían smiled as she pulled her grandson unto the bed, Elrond still sitting at her feet. 'Do not worry about it, _mell-nîn_. Where is your mother?'

The boy shrugged. Elrond looked around and hastily rose as he noticed Celeborn and Galadriel.

'Elernil, perhaps you should go make ready for lunch...'

'But I am ready... Please, _daeradar_.' Eyes pleaded to Elrond as the child wrapped his arms around Celebrían's waist.

Pursing his lips, Elrond gave Celebrían a meaningful look, before making way for the door to the hall leading into the library. It was no use to return to the building-site now, lunch would be ready in less than half an hour.

Once in the library, he found he was uncertain as to how to spend his time until then.

_Is this registering as it should?_ He asked himself. _Am I aware of what this means?_

He turned and leant against the table. Celebrían had followed and watched him from a few steps removed. 

'You are not truly pleased...'

He looked at her for a moment before extending an arm, pulling her into an embrace as she hurriedly came near.

'Let me assure you, there is nothing in this world that pleases me more than this...' he whispered softly while kissing her forehead. 

Celebrían looked up at him.

'I am as anxious now as I was when with child before... But once it has arrived...'

Elrond smiled and finished her sentence as he moved a tress of hair out of her face.

'... None of those earlier fears matter anymore... I know, _meleth-nîn_, I know.'

Pressing kisses on her cheekbone, before moving higher and keenly following her face with his lips, Celebrían couldn't help smile as she caught some of Elrond's thoughts. 

'We should have known...' she whispered breathlessly.

'Hmm,' he answered with a smile, moving to her neck. 'Yes.'

'Are you going to have a baby?'

They both ceased their actions to find Elernil watching them. The boy grimaced.

'Can I tell _ada_?'

With a sigh, Elrond rested his head against Celebrían's shoulder.

'We should have locked the door.'

'At least now we have a way to spread the news while we can hide.' she grinned.

In a sudden urge, he kissed her passionately, and was comforted by her equally ardent reply, her hands resting comfortingly on his back.

Somewhere down the hall, they could hear voices nearing. Elernil was off before they could stop him.

'It must be Ereinion.' Celebrían whispered as she caught her husband's hand. Elrond nodded.

'With Elladan and Elrohir…'

From afar, they could hear Elernil's enthused voice.

'_Daernaneth_ Celebrían doesn't have a belly ache, she's going to have a baby! Can we have a baby too, _ada_? Please?'

Exchanging only a glance, Elrond pulled Celebrían to the other end of the library, where they quickly descended the stairway, faces flushed and chuckling quietly.

'Elladan will never forgive us,' Celebrían smiled, and Elrond nodded with a grin.

'He will not speak to us for at least a week.'

Caught up in each other, they did not notice the Elf-lord before standing right in front of him.

Sitting comfortably on one of the stone benches of the small courtyard, the High Prince teasingly raised a dark eyebrow.

'It is my impression,' he smiled broadly at Celebrían. 'that if the information I have received is correct, it could be the most joyful news this House has had... well... ever, since it has moved to Aman.' 

Celebrían caught Elrond's hand with a glimmer in her eyes and Elrond smiled weakly at his friend.

'Ereinion, we…'

'... thought you were upstairs.'

Laughing, Ereinion rose. 

'Nay, your sons alone went upstairs to see you. I did manage to catch your grandson's news though. Congratulations.'

With no hesitation Celebrían caught his hand and embraced him.

Elrond too, allowed himself to be warmly congratulated.

'Ereinion!'

Elernil descended the stairway with a jump and came running towards them. 

Releasing Elrond, the High Prince bent down to catch the boy and took him on his arm.

'Hail, master Elernil. Methinks I shall start using you as my messenger boy from now on.' he laughed.

With a giggle, Elernil rested his hands on the Elf-lord's shoulder.

'Really?'

'Would I jest about an important thing such as that?' Ereinion replied seriously.

It was then that Elladan and Elrohir too, made their way down.

'Tis true?' Elrohir asked his mother with a glimmer in his eyes. Celebrían smiled and embraced him.

'Tis.'

Elladan watched them as he considered what had just been confirmed.

Taking into account that both he and Elrohir, as well as Arwen, had been conceived rather late in their parents' lives, though not late in their marriage, the occurrence of this rather uncommon thing should not have come as a full-blown surprise.

It was not according to custom, true, but did it matter if they were pleased? 

And yet... He could not help feel a bit uncomfortable.

Still, if it made his parents both feel… He could not help but smile as he watched them, both radiant and red-cheeked in their present circumstance. There was no way this could be an accident of any sort… 

It had perhaps not come expected, but could not have happened if not for some wish for another child by both…

'How long have you known?' he heard himself ask, as he embraced his mother, and he watched her blush deeply as she withdrew.

'I have suspected for some time… I could not be certain until now.'

He nodded slowly. Then he smiled broadly.

'I see.'

Celebrían slapped him against the shoulder.

Elernil, meanwhile, was attempting to get his father's attention while still seated on Ereinion's arm.

'_Ada_, _ada_, _ada_!' he called, as the Elf-lord did his uttermost best to keep the boy from falling off, clutching his shirt to pull him back.

Elrohir aided Ereinion by coming closer and Elernil leaned over to indicate he wanted to changed arms.

With a smile, Ereinion handed over his cousin.

'I'm a messenger now! 'Reinion said so! Can I? Can I please?'

'Surely you can,' his father answered, before looking at Ereinion. 'As long as you stay in, or at least near the house.'

'Of course,' the High Prince nodded.

Enthused, Elernil threw his arms around his father's neck.

'Yay!'

Then he wriggled out of the hold again and returned to Ereinion, catching his hand.

'Right now?'

Grinning at the others, the High Prince pursed his lips.

'I think we shall have lunch first,' he looked at Elrond before continuing. 'And excuse the Lord and Lady, allowing them some times alone, so we can scheme how to tease them with it best once it has entirely sunken in.' 

And with that, the High Prince turned, followed by the others, leaving Elrond with Celebrían in the courtyard.

With a comfortable movement he pulled her close, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck.

'Strangely enough,' Elrond whispered. 'I am thinking of that time when you returned from Lórien, when you were carrying Arwen…'

'Not strange at all, my love. Not strange to me.' Celebrían returned, pressing her lips against his neck. 'Tell me about it.'

He kissed her head, with a warm smile playing around his lips.

'Do you not remember?'

'I do, but I simply wish to listen to your voice now.' she replied softly.

Elrond smiled, catching her hand.

'I had hoped you would return with Elladan and Elrohir, because I always did, when you were in Lórien and I knew they would pass by there on their way home from errantry. So very disappointed I was when I saw they had come alone, meaning that you were staying longer…'

They walked hand in hand, making their way through the stately halls of the House, returning once more to the bright light of _Anar_. 

'And then you were there…' He grinned at her, raising her arm and allowing her to twirl once, before lowering it again, walking on, climbing the hill the main house had been built on. 

At the highest point, they stopped for a while, looking down at the slight curve the new wing took from the main structure, circling down, around the rise.

'Sometimes I miss the river, Elrond.' Celebrían whispered. 'I miss the valley.'

Wrapping his arms closely around her, he buried his face in her hair.

'Would you wish to go back?'

He felt her swallow, so close he held her.

And then he felt the memories, the unpleasant ones, being accessed deep within him. He tried to hold her closer, knowing it to be a reaction to what she felt at present.

Looking up, she smiled, not weakly, not feigned, but warmly, making him glow inside.

'When I say I miss them, that does not mean I cannot live without them, my love…'  

Smiling, Elrond motioned her down and she settled back against him as they watched beyond, every once in a while indicating a certain landmark, or comparing their present surroundings to the old ones.

They sat so still when Elrohir and Mîrlinde, on a private stroll, having left their son in Ereinion's care, observed them from the lower side of the hill.

'Should I not go up to congratulate them?' the Elf-lady asked her husband gently. Catching her hand, he kissed it and smiled. 

'I do not think they would much appreciate it now, _meleth-nîn_.'

'Perhaps later,' she smiled, and he nodded in reply.

'Later indeed.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

adar: father

meleth-nîn: my love

gwilwileth: butterfly

El-nîn: my star

mell-nîn: my dear 

daeradar: grandfather

ada: father, daddy

daernaneth: grandmother 

anar: the sun

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Ah well, there we are... :D

I can't believe I did this though... Be sure to warn me when this starts to get silly. ;))

And feel free to leave me and the elfies a review. We live on those. :))


	5. Expectations

**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

**A/N**: I noticed I have never put down anywhere what "Aurehen" meant... Shame on me...

It would mean about the same in Sindarin as it would in Quenya; aur(e) meaning day, sunlight, morning, and "hen" eye, so would translate something like "day-eye".

And before anyone kicks me for it, I still think Elves sleep with their eyes closed in a protected environment.

Chocolate elfies for all you reviewers!

**LoveChilde**: I should have reacted to this sooner, but holidays made it slip my mind: the only thing I was able to find out about Celeborn's brother Galathil was that he was the father of Nimloth, not much else. One of those forgotten elfies again, I fear...

**Alatariel**: 'annoying Elfie that is, after all, the one who we all love' is a good title. :)

**Finch**: You do get points, because you seem to keep guessing what I'm up to. ;)) (am I really getting this predictable?)

**Anon E. Mus**: I though I had finished up _Ereinion_ quite nicely? (ribbons and all ;))

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**Chapter Four    Expectations**

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'Ai! Bloody Mandos!'

Elrond looked up to see the other Elf leap up and wave his hand in the air frantically, before inserting the tip of the injured thumb into his mouth, his face winced in pain.  

'Are you all right?' he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ereinion groaned and closed his eyes for a moment.

'I...' He grimaced. 'I am fine.'

Smirking, Elrond shook his head.

'Perhaps we should not have allowed you to wield a hammer just yet.'

The High Prince scowled. 

'Do not mock me, Elrond, I was building houses before you were even born.'

'Not in this life-time.' Elrond returned, trying hard not to let his face crinkle into a smile. 'And besides, I suspect you have not wielded a hammer ever since.' 

It was untrue of course. He recalled the fervour Gil-galad had built Lindon with, making it home, a palace in which all the skill and expertise of the Noldor had been poured.

Taking his eyes off the other for a moment, he finished fastening the joist he had been working on himself.

'Why are we working here, by the way, and not down at the waterway?' Ereinion asked. He preferred the waterway, it brought back memories of old times. Good memories. That morning at breakfast, Elrond had simply announced they were to work here today, and he had not objected, but not enquired after the reason either.

Elrond smiled and hammered a final nail home.

'Because, I cannot be there at the moment.' He stepped back and admired his own work. Then he looked at Ereinion. 'Do you wish to go home?'

It was late in the afternoon, the time everyone usually went back to the House to refresh themselves before dinner. Most had indeed already gone.

Slapping the sawdust off his trousers, the High Prince nodded, deciding not to ask further. Knowing Elrond, there was a good reason.

'I suppose...'

After putting away his tools so they would be protected from unexpected nightly rain, Ereinion made his way to the other side of the floor, balancing across the support beams which had not yet been covered with heavy floorboards. Upon reaching the improvised stairway, he sat down, with the perfect view all around him, fields and hills for miles on end. Even some trees which, further south, would turn into woods.

How simple his life was now, he thought. Just this that mattered, working on the house, being near his friends. No wars, or planning, no councils or messengers arriving in the middle of the night… And he preferred it like that. 

Elrond too had made his way over, and sat down a step lower. He squinted against the late afternoon rays of _anar _that shone upon his face.

'Can this replace home, you think?'

Resting his head on his hand, Ereinion smiled.

'Has it not already?'

'I do not know.' the Elf-lord replied, a slight hesitance audible in his voice. 

'I think,' the High Prince began, 'I remember how you felt when Imladris was only a small settlement. You had lived less than a day from the sea, almost your entire life. You had grown up on beaches, and suddenly were thrown into a valley, where the water was on an ever-continuing journey away from you, instead of the comforting tide you knew so well.'

'Sirion had waterfalls.'

Ereinion chuckled, imagining times when he had been debating with the small boy and his brother, whom had been placed in his care. Always waylaying answers, always trying to turn something around. How well could Elrond really remember Sirion's waterfalls? 

Then again, how well could he himself?

'Do not tell me you felt Imladris to be home at first.'

Breathing in deeply, Elrond shook his head.

'You are right... It did not feel like home initially.'

They were silent for a moment.

'We could plant threes,' Ereinion pointed. 'And once the water runs there,' another imaginary landmark was indicated, 'you are coming close to Imladris.'

Elrond narrowed his eyes.

'Perhaps you are right.'

'Ah, well...' Ereinion shrugged, as he scanned their surroundings. Elrond always needed to be gloomy of something, it was his way. In ten minutes time he would have shed it. 

Suddenly discovering the reason for their absence from the waterway, the project Elrond was most enthusiastic about nowadays, Ereinion smiled. 

'Has she forgiven you yet for doing this to her again?' the High Prince remarked, while almost at once receiving a retaliating blow against the shoulder. 

'I shall never cease my jesting if you ever find yourself in this situation.' Elrond smiled.

Ereinion raised an amused eyebrow, but held his tongue.

Celebrían, belly very obvious, arm in arm with Aurehen, was making her way towards the building, and Ereinion could see her flushed face even from their high place.

'Is it wise for her to come all the way here?' he asked.

Elrond did not seem very concerned.

'Very... It is good for her, it relieves present discomforts and makes her stronger.'

Ereinion looked sideways at him.

'If you say so.'

'You know this, Ereinion. Do not act as if it is not so.' Elrond feigned an exasperated sigh.

The High Prince rose with a smirk.

'The last pregnancy I attended up close was my mother's.'

'There they are.' Aurehen indicated to Celebrían. 

Celebrían watched two Elves, one of them unmistakably her husband, descend from the highest floor of the structure. Ereinion had evidently just made a humorous remark, for the two were still laughing as they quickly neared. With steady pace they approached and Elrond stretched his arm to catch the hand she offered.

'All right, love?' he asked her, and she nodded, her hand over his as he placed it on her abdomen.

'Just tired, nothing more.'

'You wish to rest a while?'

Celebrían groaned exaggeratedly.

'Stop fussing, Elrond. I have done this before.' 

Ereinion smiled, as Elrond withdrew a little, pretending offence for a moment. Then he chuckled, and, pressing his lips against Celebrían's, offered his arm. Accepting it with a broad smile, she began her usual questioning about the building in progress. 

Ereinion had a very good idea of how much Elrond wanted to tell the Elf-lady about the goings-on two hours from here. He also realised his friend would not. Not at present. Offering an arm to Aurehen, they followed.

The waterway was necessary, everyone had agreed. There had to be another reliable water source near the house, preferably one finding its spring in close proximity. Upon a reconnaissance journey, Ereinion had found exactly that, flowing from a nearby mountain, but it had proven too small for their precise purposes.

After much deliberation, it had been decided to lead it towards their initial water supply, which had been led from the greater one flowing from Tirion, and, after enlarging the old one as well, let the two streams come together.

So, the major part of the workforce was now busying themselves with the preparation of the run of the initial  water, and no doubt soon the day would arrive that the barriers would be punctured and the second stream would find its way here, joined with the other.

It was indeed alone the Tirion waterway that was worked on at present, that being the larger part of the venture. The smaller stream and its course were more private; a plaything for the Lord of the House and the youngest of the High Princes of the City.

Ereinion had taken Elernil there, after letting him explicitly promise not to speak of it to a soul. He had had little trust in it, but the boy had been exceptionally quiet, nevertheless delighting in the little secret nudges and winks they were now able to exchange when the subject was lightly touched upon.

As Elrond explained their construction plans to Celebrían, Ereinion did the same with Aurehen, but on an entirely different level.

'So Elladan is helping at the waterway?' she asked quietly, knowing it was a secret to be kept from the Lady of the House.

'Aye,' Ereinion answered, knowing Elladan and the lady holding his arm had rapidly gone from acquaintances to friends, and were now starting down the road beyond that. 'They expect to be finished with the first stages within a month.'

Aurehen smiled. 

'Good news, I think. He will be near the House again, then?'

'Most likely,' Ereinion smiled. The entire household watched the two Elves circle around each other, and everyone seemed to be waiting for something to happen, but nothing had, up to now. Still, it wasn't a secret.

Then again, nothing could stay a secret long around Glorfindel. 

Elrond looked around.

'We shall be returning to the House now, you will join us?'

'Or course,' Ereinion smiled. Aurehen, too, nodded. Elladan would be there already, she expected. With a happy sigh, she allowed the High Prince to lead her back, all the while not noticing his amusement.

--~~*~~--

His paces had turned from deliberate to rather cautious as Elladan neared the place he had planned to make his destination. 

He knew she was there; she had returned with his parents and Ereinion, had sat at the table across from him during dinner, and where else would she retire after his mother, and with her his father, had decided to go to bed early?

Gathering all his courage, he softly knocked on the door.

'Aurehen?'

Listening to movement within the rooms before the door was opened he couldn't help but feel a little nervous. 

'Elladan...' she smiled, resting her hand on the door handle on the outside.

'I was wondering,' he started, before realising he had to continue breathing if he wished to finish the sentence, 'whether you would like to join me in taking a stroll in the gardens? I promise we shall remain near the House, in case my mother requires your assistance.'

He was treated on the most wonderful smile he had imagined possible, as she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

'I would like that very much, my Lord.'

--~~*~~--

Ereinion sat on the balcony-railing of the library, eyes closed and enjoying the warm wind that swept against his face. He let his mind wander lightly over some things that had happened today, trying not to dwell on the dull ache in his thumb, but rather on the story he had told Elernil about an hour ago, before the boy had been sent to bed by his mother.

It was Glorfindel's voice that brought him out of his reverie.

'Aah, look at what I see here.'

Somewhat suspecting a book containing a quote of some sorts, he opened his eyes, only to find the golden-haired Elf-lord gazing down into the garden.

Doing so as well, he found Elladan and Aurehen quietly speaking, apparently caught up in each other's presence.

'Are we not ever the bachelors, our only pleasure coming from seeing _another_ being caught up in the strings of matrimony?' Glorfindel smiled.

Skipping off the railing, Ereinion went to stand next to the other for a moment.

'Speak for yourself, _mellon_; if I were to find someone I cared for, I would not mind entangling myself.'

Glorfindel laughed amusedly.

'But you were always so good at untangling yourself afterwards, my Lord.'

'Ah, ever the gossiper, my Lord Glorfindel.' Ereinion smirked. 

They both turned serious after a few moments of hilarity. 

'Still, we might have missed something.' Glorfindel contemplated.

Ereinion smiled.

'You are right, methinks.'

Resting his back against the railing the High Prince looked at the other Elf. Glorfindel nodded.

'Do you never have the feeling it would be nice to have a son? I see how you treat Elernil.'

Narrowing his eyes, Ereinion stared down at Elladan and Aurehen.

'I _have_ brought up sons before, Glorfindel.' he said with a dry smile. 'Though they always seemed to belong to other people.'

Raindrops began falling, and they watched Elladan and Aurehen flee into the direction of shelter; one of the many hidden away in the gardens. Chuckling, Glorfindel stepped away from the railing and strolled back inside, Ereinion, hands behind his back, following.

'I have always believed Elrond imitated you in that asset, fostering the orphans of Middle-earth... But I mean a son, of your own flesh.'

Ereinion seemed to consider it.

'It might still come of that one day... We'll have the house filled with golden-haired Elf-children.'

Glorfindel looked slightly aghast. 

'I meant you.'

'Of course you did.'

--~~*~~--

Celebrían watched the rain start outside, the raindrops falling a little way onto the side of the balcony before the roof shielded the rest of it from them.

Lying behind her, Elrond carefully stroked her abdomen, knowing she was not asleep, not worried, because she was not.

As outside the rain continued to fall unremittingly, Elrond was content.

Softly he began humming a lullaby he had often sung for his children when they had only been infants and felt Celebrían place her hand over his, guiding him to where soft kicking could be felt.

'So amazing,' he whispered. 

'Growing so fast.' Celebrían returned.

Elrond smiled.

'The difference between Middle-earth and Valinor...'

'I do not think it will be long, _El-nîn_.'

Carefully moving his fingers over her belly, both examining and massaging, he kissed her hair.

'We shall see, meleth-nîn.'

Elrond woke abruptly of a sudden roar of nearby thunder. He waited silently for a continuation, but it did not come... A hand moved over his arm and clasped it, slightly pressurizing.

'_El-nîn_...'

He looked at Celebrían and saw she was wide awake, her other hand pressed against her all-too-prominent belly.

'I did not wish to wake you…' she whispered with a smile. 

Even before placing his hands on her, he knew.

'My foolish girl,' he whispered with a smile, and pressed his lips against hers, then leaving the bed and almost running towards the door.

She was early, he would not have expected this for at least a week to four weeks hence, but she was ready, and he did not truly worry, as he darted through the hallway and rapped his knuckles against the door to Aurehen's rooms.

'Aurehen, we require your assistance... As soon as you can, please.' he called, before turning and swiftly returning to the room he had just departed.

There, he started lighting lamps and eventually returned to Celebrían, who clasped his hand and looked up at him with a fragile smile. Elrond could not refrain from a soft chuckle as he took her in his arms, caressing her hair and pressing his lips against her skin.

'Does it hurt?' he asked, a small but audible amount of concern in his voice. 

'Not as much...' she shortly shook her head, and raised a hand to touch his face, as he began his short examination, a little surprised when he looked back at her.

'And you didn't wake me?'

Celebrían attempted to laugh, but was cut short by an uncontrolled breath.

'It goes much faster here, it seems...' She whispered, clasping his hand with hers.

Elrond smiled broadly.

'If I had not woken, I would have nearly missed it.'

'Trust me, I would have woken you in due time,' Celebrían groaned.

Outside, both could hear Aurehen's voice, and Elrond thought to distinguish Celeborn's too.

'Was my father outside?' Celebrían asked.

'Not just now,' Elrond replied, offering her a wet towel. 'But he could have been hiding.'

He smiled when she laughed and stroked her hair.

A short knock on the already open door had Aurehen entering and Elrond moved aside a little. While examining she looked first at him, then at Celebrían. 

'It is not abnormal for a birth to go faster here, but this surprises even me.'

Elrond nodded.

'Apparently...' he started.

'... tis a Half-elven thing.' Celebrían breathed the next part of the sentence. 

Aurehen frowned as the Lord and Lady threw each other an amused look.

'This happened before?'

'Not with Elladan and Elrohir,' Elrond smiled. 'They were perfectly on time.'

'But Arwen was early,' Celebrían added. 'Five weeks early.'

Aurehen smiled now too.

'Then I suppose this is not entirely strange.'

'Indeed it is not,' Elrond replied, 'but we should have cautioned you to expect the unexpected. especially when it concerns...'

Celebrían squeezed his arm.

'If you continue your small-talk any longer, _herven_, you will have missed the birth.'

With a playful grimace, Elrond moved aside and behind Celebrían.

'Now how did this work again?' he chuckled, earning himself a poke in the ribs.

'I can still hit you between contractions, _El-nîn_,' she warned, with an unmistakable glimmer in her eyes.

--~~*~~--

Elernil was not quite certain what the commotion was all about.

He had expected his grandmother to give birth months ago, but when it did not happen he had quickly lost interest.

He watched his parents talk to his uncle, and it was evident even to him that they were amused about something. He found his great-grandmother near the bedroom door, where he was not allowed to come right now, and his great-grandfather talking to Glorfindel and Erestor. Then his eye fell on Ereinion, and he hopped over to his cousin.

'Elernil, no messages?' the High Prince enquired as he opened his arms for the Elf-child and lifted him onto his lap, sitting back comfortably.

'Not yet,' the boy tried hopefully, but Ereinion shook his head. 'None here either.'

'Ah shucks... And the baby probably isn't coming anyway,' he pouted, folding his arms. 'Just like before.'

'I am quite certain it will come this time,' Ereinion smiled. 'You'll see.'

'At least I get to stay up.' Elernil yawned.

'Ah yes,' Ereinion chuckled. 'If you can stay awake.'

Sighing, Elernil rested his head against the adult's shoulder.

'That happens when I don't have anything to do,' he mumbled. 'I fall asleep.'

And indeed, after a while, Ereinion could see the small chest rise and fall slowly, knowing eyes were closed and sleep had set in. Mîrlinde walked over and offered to take him, but the High Prince smiled.

'Tis no bother, better leave him, or he'll wake again.'

It was some time later, that, unmistakably, crying could be distinguished. Entering for a moment, Galadriel swiftly returned. 

'All is well.'

Ereinion watched Celeborn smile broadly and receive quick congratulations from the Elf-lords standing beside him.

The next moment Elrond was standing in the room, face flushed and radiant.

'Ten fingers, ten toes, good heartbeat, everything is well.' He made to turn when Elladan sniggered and called over.

'And?'

Elrond frowned.

'And what?' realisation flooded into his face the next moment. 'Girl,' he stammered, even redder than before. 'A silver-haired girl.'

Then he disappeared again, too fast for anyone to congratulate him.

Elrohir walked over to Ereinion and sat down beside him.

'He's asleep?' he asked.

'I believe so.' the High Prince answered.

There was a silence between the two. As Elladan joined them as well, Ereinion chuckled.

'How does one get paid this, well, what did you call it? Everlasting something?'

'Respect,' Elladan mumbled, before he couldn't help grinning. 'We were never really sure.'

'Ah,' Ereinion replied, trying to keep from bursting out into laughter due to the expression the twins had on their faces. 'Well, do let me know when you find out.'

Elrohir took over Elernil, who didn't wake, and gave the High Prince a questioning look.

'How did you know?'

Sitting back, hands behind his head, Ereinion smiled.

'I did not _know_ exactly, I merely guessed. But something told me it would be a girl.' 

'But how did you guess the hair?' Elladan persisted. 

'Something just told me there was more silver in this child.'

Leaving the sons of Elrond with the cryptic reply, Ereinion rose with a smile and walked over to stand beside Galadriel and Celeborn, both of whom now stood in the doorway. The child had indeed been blessed with Celebrían's silver tresses.

'You saw, did you not?' Galadriel asked him softly.

'Hmm,' Ereinion replied. 'Very strange, but I did, I cannot explain how though. Or when, for that.'

Placing a hand on his shoulder, the Elf-lady smiled. 

'Even you cannot see everything yet.'

--~~*~~--

Elrond rested his head on Celebrían's shoulder as he watched her feed the child, both of them lying in his arms, and he marvelled as he had before, about small fingers and limbs, carefully touching the delicate slant of the small ear, tracing his fingers over the soft skin. 

The little girl lifted a small hand and wrapped it around his finger as it came into her reach, and Celebrían smiled.

'She found her _ada_ already.'

Grinning broadly, he moved his finger to and fro slightly, but the child's tiny digits kept it tightly in their grasp

'She is beautiful, Celebrían.'

'Yes,' the proud mother whispered, stroking the silver downy hair. 'She is absolutely stunning.'

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herven: husband

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By Elbereth's grace... Characters suddenly went right out of my hands... *glares at Glorfindel and Ereinion*

They suddenly started making insinuations and leaking plot and left me utterly and entirely at a loss...

Okay, maybe not. :D


	6. Names

**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

A/N: *huggles* I want to especially thank kalurien and ShinElrond for talking to me about babies and teething and names on MSN... And slimey bunnies... 

And:

**Artanis**: What makes you think I know something about the begetting day of Gil's child? *cough-cough*

**Finch**: Mata Hari? That scares me... (not as much as Ereinion and Glorfindel being comics does though ;)). And Maglor... I just don't really know how to handle Maglor, I guess... 

**Emmica**: You do not know what happened last time I did that, do you?

**Isilendil**: My opinion on marrying Gil-galad? *snigger* No comment... 

**aniwda**: Are you suggesting what I think you are suggesting?

**bridget-jones**: Ahaha... You wouldn't mean the evil ficbits on the LiveJournal, would you? Because then you would know of my evil plans... *runs off mumbling something about having to be careful putting stuff on there from now on*

And of course a big Thank You! for all who reviewed and I didn't mention... And chocolate elfies!

But someone said you better can't eat them or drink anything during some parts of this chapter... 

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**Chapter Five    Names**

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'Names?' Celeborn asked.

'Ah,' Elrond said, rather self-consciously. 'Because of her silver hair, Celebrían and I decided to integrate it into her name for certain... But from there on...'

The Elf-lord beside him raised and eyebrow, more or less meaning "what could be so difficult about it?".

'How about Celewilin?'

Elrond sighed.

'You will not believe how long we have tried names... They all just... Do not fit... I was desperate enough to suggest Celerodwen. But this is a name she shall have to carry for her entire life, unless she would decide to change it of course.'

Ereinion sniggered.

'If we are speaking of names she can change later on in her life, how about Celaith?'

Celeborn frowned at the High Prince, as Glorfindel joined in the grandfather-assault.

'Celebrohiril?'

'You can name your horse or weaponry anything you like, but not my granddaughter.'

Ereinion and Glorfindel exchanged an amused glance. Elrond seemed deep in thought. Celeborn continued a more serious thread of names.

'Celebwen?'

'Celerin?'

'Celebrilin?'

Leaving the other three standing at the door, his brow narrowed, Elrond entered the nursery and found Celebrían with their daughter, who among the members of the household, for the time being, had only been referred to as _meluihên_. 

And lovely she was, Elrond agreed, as Celebrían handed the infant to him. Silver hair that would in time become as long as her mother's… Her eyes almost exactly like Celebrían's, surpassing even the former beauty of Vilya...

It was strange, he mused, placing his hand underneath the small head and holding his daughter gently as they walked towards the window. He had never hoped for this child, never expected it to be so... reassuring.

Small hands pressed against his chest and Elrond held her away a little, smiling, receiving a trusting smile in return, before one of his braids was caught in a tight-locked hold.

Celebrían followed and rested her head against his shoulder as she watched them both.

'If she does not relinquish that, and I doubt she will, for a while at least, you are going to have to stay.'

He nodded and carefully stroked the little girl's cheek, making her eyes close shortly as she uttered a sound of delight. 

'I would not leave, even if this were not the case.' He smiled. 

'Have you decided?' she asked, an entire world of curiosity lying within the query.

With a slow nod he turned towards her.

'I think we can announce it.'

'When?' Her eyes glimmered.

'Tonight. Let us announce that the _Essecarm_ë isto take place this evening.' Elrond replied, a broad smile playing around his lips now.

'Are you not going to tell me?'

He grinned and pressed a kiss against the small head of his youngest daughter. Then he looked at Celebrían.

'Celebriníel... I wish to call her Celebriníel.'

    --~~*~~--  
some months later  
    --~~*~~--

Her hair, of a deep auburn colour he had grown to admire much, cascaded down her back, unbraided, slightly curling at the ends.

Silently nearing, he smiled as he ran his fingers through it, and guided her head back so he could steal a breath from her lips, if only for a moment.

This hair colour was an inheritance of both her parents; her mother Vanyar, her father Noldor, but her grey eyes were from her father's line, she had told, when he had asked, the first time he had dared kiss her.

That particular evening had turned out to be a quite memorable one indeed, for they had been together in her rooms, on the balcony to be more precise, long after the storm had chased them into shelter. And then his father had knocked, making his heart jump as if he had been an elfling caught at something forbidden.

Elladan grinned. That same night, his sister had been born.

Aurehen smiled, closing her eyes. 

'I suspected it might be you.'

'Who else kisses you so?' Elladan asked, trying to sound dismayed. 

'Let me think...' she replied teasingly, before he could silence her with his lips.

It was one of the rare days that she had time off, and they had planned to spend it wisely; together.

'My parents were alone out in the garden, so that might not be the best place to go,' Elladan whispered, as he kissed her cheekbone.

'Who is minding Celebriníel then?'

Elrond's oldest son chuckled.

'Ereinion.'

Aurehen turned and looked up at him.

'You are jesting?'

The High Prince observed the little girl suspiciously as she sat on the table under his watchful eye, both of them waiting until her parents would relieve him of his childminding duty. Celebriníel looked back, all the while chewing on a small cloth rabbit he had brought as a present from Tirion when he had last returned.

Elernil, in turn, seemed to watch the both of them curiously.

'She bites, you know.' he said.

'Bites?' Ereinion frowned, 'How hard can she possibly bite?'

'Hard.' Elernil returned, not a single emotion readable from his face.

'Really?'

'Really.'

Reaching out to her, Ereinion smiled.

'It could never be that hard, could it now?'

With a radiant smile she dropped the bunny and settled for his hand and pulled it inquisitively.

'I'd watch out if I were you.' Elernil warned.

Ereinion looked at him and smiled forgivingly.

'I think I am used to some pain, I assure you... Hey!'

Celebriníel had taken her chance in this unguarded moment and had indeed sunken her teeth into the High Prince's smallest finger. 

'How to make her release?' Ereinion asked, as she meanwhile alternated suckling and chewing.

'You can't, she'll not let it loose.' Elernil said, skipping off the chair and coming nearer. 'Maybe we can keep her nose closed. I never tried that. She might let go.'

'Or suffocate,' Ereinion frowned. He did not feel like explaining to Celebrían he had tried to keep her daughter from breathing to save his finger. Then again, he was not sure if he did want to sacrifice a digit either. 

Elrond and Celebrían watched the small commotion from the doorway of the library, having just returned from a peaceful walk. 

'Should we not help him?' Celebrían asked, as Elrond looked on over her shoulder.

'Are you in jest?' the Lord of the House chuckled. 'This is too precious to end. Besides, he is overreacting. She does not bite _that_ hard.'

Celebrían slapped him playfully against the stomach, before stepping into the rooms. Elrond, hands behind his back, followed her slowly. 

'Is anything the matter, Ereinion?' she asked while nearing, trying to keep from laughing.

'Could you please remove this child from my finger?' the exasperated High Prince asked, sounding much more helpless than he looked with the small child holding on to his hand.

Meanwhile, Elrond seemed to have a hard time keeping his composure. 

The Lady of the House seemed to have less trouble in overseeing the situation and swiftly achieved her daughter's surrender of the Elf-lord's limb. For a moment it seemed as if Celebriníel would start to cry, but upon seeing her mother she giggled and forgot her disappointment. 

'_Nana_,' she murmured, and Celebrían lifted her, placing the child on her arm.

Suckling on her own fist the child seemed peaceful for a moment, before discovering her father and raising her free hand towards him, almost as a greeting.

With quick steps he neared, catching the small fist and was treated to a content smile. Collecting the cloth-bunny from the table Elrond handed it to the elf-child, who pressed it against her chest and consequently lay her head against her mother's shoulder, looking on.

'Are you tired, my sweet?' Celebrían asked softly, stroking the elfling's back, and the child crept closer, resting her forehead against her mother's neck.

'Perhaps we should allow her some sleep.' Elrond suggested, reaching out to stroke the little girl's cheek and ear for a moment.

His wife nodded, pressing her hand lightly against the baby's head.

Elrond looked at Ereinion. 

'We have a messenger from Tirion, just arrived. Your grandfather has summoned you, apparently.'

'Was there any time mentioned?' the High prince replied. 

'I gathered you were to go as soon as you could.'

Elernil caught Ereinion's tunic and pulled it to get attention.

'Can I come? Can I please come?'

The High Prince looked at Elrond. Elrohir and Mîrlinde had accompanied Celeborn and Galadriel back to the Gardens of Lórien a month ago, leaving their son in the care of his grandparents.

'Your decision. But I would not mind taking him.'

Celebrían smiled as she looked back.

'Let him go, El-nîn, they'll both enjoy it.' She looked at Ereinion. 'And your grandfather would enjoy it too, I would venture to predict.'

The Master of the House nodded.

'Very well, but he is your responsibility, Ereinion. You must promise to listen to him, Elernil.'

The High Prince nodded and Elernil smiled.

'I promise.'

'Do you need help packing?' Celebrían asked her grandson, but Ereinion placed a protective hand on the boy's shoulder.

'I will help, there is no need...'

'You'd forget half of what he needs,' Elrond frowned.

'I shall help,' Aurehen offered as she walked into the room, closely followed by Elladan.

'Thank you, Lady,' Celebrían said, as she motioned Elrond to join her.

As Aurehen offered her hand to Elernil and left the library, Elladan walked over to Ereinion.

'You are going to Tirion?'

'Yes,' he nodded, 'My grandfather has sent for me.'

'How long will you stay?'

'It depends,' Ereinion shrugged. 'It could be mere hours, perhaps some days. If longer, I would have been informed beforehand, methinks.'

'Would you mind if I accompanied you to the City? I have some business to attend to there.'

Ereinion smiled.

'By no means would I object. And errand of your father's?'

'No,' Elladan grinned. 'An entirely private matter.'

    --~~*~~--

Elrond sat reading quietly on the balcony of his study. 

Ereinion, together with Elernil and Elladan had ridden out this afternoon to Tirion, the first because he had been requested to by Fingolfin, Elladan for no apparent reason.

Well, at least his eldest son seemed to hope everyone thought so. Elrond pursed his lips in an attempt to keep a smile off his face.

Most likely it had to do with rings. Silver rings.

'About time too,' he mused, finding he could not keep his mind on the book. He closed it and sat back, finding his daughter sitting at his feet, looking up at him.

He raised an eyebrow and looked around. No one there.

'Well, well,' he smiled, and Celebriníel grinned broadly, raising little arms to indicate she wished to be lifted. 

Elrond did so and sat back again. 'Now did you crawl all the way here? Hmm?' he asked rhetorically, looking at his daughter on his lap. 

He caught a hand she offered and chuckled.

'Who was supposed to take care of you then?' The girl chuckled as well and suckled one of his fingers. 'Just do not...' he began, but was too late, and unable to pull back his finger. '... bite.'

Rescuing his hand from recently-appearing teeth, Elrond tried to look stern.

'You cannot simply sink your teeth into everything that you put into you mouth, Celebriníel...' 

Evidently, his daughter disagreed, trying once more to catch his hand.

'_Addaa_...' she pouted, as soon as she understood he was not going to humour her.

'Yes, _ada_,' Elrond said, trying to look strict. '_Ada's_ finger, not a dummy... Where is it anyway?'

Looking up, he found Celebrían amusedly observing them, arms crossed, the cloth plaything in one of her hands. 

'I always thought you made a very good biting toy.'

'You tend not to bite very hard.' Elrond returned dryly. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand grabbing the front of his robes, and, finding her feet, Celebriníel pulled herself up, a little shaky, reaching up to touch his cheek for a moment.

Speaking a string of words not even her father, with his near-unlimited linguistic experience, could make heads or tails of, the elf-child smiled and dropped onto her backside again.

'That was amusing,' Celebrían laughed, watching Elrond's astonished face. 

'That was frightening,' Elrond replied, watching his daughter with different eyes. 'How long has she been doing that?'

'We just had the debut, I think,' Celebrían smiled, as she sat down beside the two.

Their daughter smiled at her and reached for Elrond's book, trying her teeth on the cover at once. Her father seemed too taken aback to stop her for the moment.

     --~~*~~--

'Where are we going?' Elernil asked as he followed Ereinion. 

'Inside.' the Elf-lord smiled as they both ascended the stairs. 'You shall meet my _daeradar_. He is your ancestor as well.'

'Is he a High Prince too?' 

'He is,' Ereinion replied, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder as they reached the top, entering one of the ancient mansions of Tirion. 

'What do they call this? A palace?'

'They refer to it as the Halls of Fingolfin.'

'Do you live here?'

'I used to,' Ereinion smiled. 'But now I live with you when I'm not here, do I not?'

'Yes,' Elernil smiled back. 'Can I meet your _daeradar_?'

'Certainly you can,' the High Prince started, 'for there he is.'

Indeed, Fingolfin, standing tall and dark, observed them from near the entrance of his study, speaking to a Lady Ereinion recognised with a jump of heart. Familiar grey attentive eyes, and a comfortable smile made Elernil grin back.

'Well, Ereinion, I must be very much mistaken if you do not bring the grandson of Elrond into my Halls?' the tenor voice welcomed them. 

'I do indeed, my Lord,' Ereinion replied, moving his cousin forward, 'for he has assented to be a messenger for me. This is Elernil, son of Elrohir.'

A deep melodious laugh escaped the elder of the High Princes, as he offered his hand.

'Well met, Elernil of the House of Elrond, may you be as good a messenger as my grandson not long ago was.'

'Yes, sir,' Elernil replied.

'You have a horse, I take it?' Two pairs of grey eyes glimmered due to the question. 

'I do,' the boy smiled, 'my _ada_ gave him to me; he said I had to have a good horse if I was to be a messenger.'

Ereinion, meanwhile had turned to the Lady at his grandfather's side, placing a quick kiss upon her cheek and catching her hand.

'Tis good to see you, my Lady.'

She smiled broadly at him.

'Indeed better to see you, my Lord, I trust you are well?'

'Very well, even better now that I have ascertained myself of your well-being...' he grinned. 

Fingolfin smiled and placed a hand on his grandson's shoulder. 

'I would invite you to dine with your grandmother and me tonight, were it not that this Lady will no doubt claim you first.'

He grinned knowingly, before continuing. 'Perhaps she will be kind enough to see to Elernil, while we discuss the reason for your summoning?'

'Indeed I would,' she replied with a smile, offering her hand. 'We shall wait for Ereinion elsewhere, Elernil, are you hungry?'

'He is always hungry,' Ereinion smiled broadly, receiving a grimace from Elernil.

The two High Princes entered the study and Fingolfin closed the door. 

'So, how does the House of Elrond react to the recent addition to their ranks?' the elder asked.

Ereinion smiled.

'It is as if the entire house rotates around that girl, day and night.'

'This is much as it should be,' the Elf-lord smiled, remembering the situation he had been in, long ago. 'Daughters often take that place in the household. But pray tell, how fares our kin in _Imloth_?' 

'They all fare well.'

Fingolfin looked at him intently.

'And how do you fare?'

'I fare well also.' Ereinion nodded with a broad grin.

'And the construction of the new... What was it, a wing?' Fingolfin continued, as they calmly walked through the chamber. 

'Not yet connected, but yes, a wing it shall be.' Ereinion replied. 'The work progresses steadily, even without Elrond's help. He is too enamoured by his wife and new child, at present.'

With a chuckle, Fingolfin offered some refreshments, which Ereinion gladly accepted. 

'From what I heard, it is little wonder. My brother was very enthusiastic about the news. Finarfin holds all his grandchildren and great-grandchildren and so on in high regard, but one who carries that much show of the heritage of his House is held in even higher esteem.' 

'I know Celeborn was much pleased with it as well,' Ereinion smiled. 'Not to mention Elrond.'

Fingolfin smiled as they were seated, and Ereinion twirled the substance in his glass.

'Not that I do not enjoy these pleasantries, _daeradar_, but...'

With a nod, the other set down his glass.

'You are right, I find myself evading the reason I asked you to come.' He folded his hands and sat back. 'While discussing your place in Tirion as a High Prince in the Council, we received quite a positive reply to our proposal of your joining it.'

Ereinion pursed his lips and raised and eyebrow.

'You must be very busy if this is what is discussed in the Council nowadays.'

Ignoring the remark, Fingolfin went on.

'If you were to accept the offer they will no doubt make in due time, you would be given a place in the High Council, would have allowance to start your own. Gather people around you to advise you.'

Rising, Ereinion placed his hand on the back of his chair.

'What says my father of this?'

His grandfather looked up at him.

'He agrees that you should take up this responsibility. But our opinions differ on when exactly you should start.'

'Meaning?' A slight irritation could be distinguished in the younger Elf's voice now.

'I am very tempted to ask you to take it up now, where he says it might be better to wait a while yet. Perhaps he has a point, after all, your physical years would officially not allow it.'

'If I had been any other, I would not have been asked?'

Fingolfin laughed.

'At your age? No, of course not. Therefore it is a great honour.'

'Because I fall under 'different guidelines' there would be made an exception?'

'There would indeed.'

Ereinion was silent. The other High Prince studied his face.

'But you carry years of experience with you, years of...'

'Pain,' he said quietly, 'Pain, _daeradar_. And I have no wish to return to politics just yet.'

Nodding, Fingolfin bowed his head for a moment.

He had somewhat expected Ereinion to jump on this unexpected honour. But Fingon had seen this coming.

Curious, that even after so many years, it was still the father that understood the son better than the grandfather. And that was despite the many nightly conversations the grandfather had had with the grandson about love, death and, above all, life. 

'There is something else we need to discuss, Ereinion.'

He watched his grandson's grey eyes meet his again.

'Which is?'

'We have spoken of this before.'

'Ah,' Ereinion said, his eyes turning stormy, placing his hands behind his back. 'Names.'

'We would prefer you to carry a name other than Ereinion, for there shall be time when you return into the public eye, in then you can no longer...'

'I have always preferred Ereinion.'

'Would you not take up Gil-galad again?'

'Is it presumptuous if I do not?'

'Rather the opposite, I think.' Fingolfin sighed. He watched Ereinion walk over to the window. With every passing word his grandson seemed to become more inflexible. 'You knew this day would come, you have known it for a long time. You cannot simply give in to this indisposition to take up your old life.' 

'You really do not understand, do you?' Ereinion replied, staring outside, a certain sadness over him. 'I never truly wished it, never wanted it, not then, and not now. I took the High King-ship because it was said to be my birth-right, because I was one of the few left to rightfully claim it. I was eighty years of age, I knew nothing of what it was to rule a people, I had grown up with...' He silenced himself, and bowed his head. 'Forgive me.'

Fingolfin gave a short shake of the head.

'There is nothing that needs forgiving. I beg _your_ forgiveness for trying to influence you.'

With a shrug Ereinion looked up. 

'I shall do as you ask, but not now. I will assume any station in the City you see fit for me to take when I reach my second century, but not before that. I implore you, give me the time until then.'

'You have it,' the elder Elf smiled, rising and nearing. He placed an arm around his grandson. 'As much time as you need.'

    --~~*~~--

Elernil was conversing with one of the stable hands, and Ereinion moved beside the Lady, watching on. She placed her arm through his and looked up.

'What is the matter?'

'I would only anger myself speaking of it.' he said softly.

'Well,' she smiled. 'Speak of it nevertheless.'

'Not in front of the boy.' he growled.

'Still that temper as ever, Ereinion?'

'It shall be the end of me,' he said, a smile penetrating his stern facial expression nevertheless. 'My grandfather is a patient man, but I know he does not like it when it gets the better of me.'

'What did you speak of?'

'Apparently they wish me to join the High Council.'

Resting her other hand on his elbow she smiled mischievously.

'Would it not be great honour?'

Narrowing his eyes at her, he shook his head.

'Please do not start this. Not you.'

Reaching for his hand she brought it to her lips. 

'I will not, you know I jest.'

'Yes...' he smiled, before his face darkened once more. 'And the name-issue again.'

'Does he not have a point?'

'I thought you did not like Fingolfin.'

'But not because he is not wise... I have different reasons, _haryon-nîn_.'

'Why can I not remain Ereinion?' 

'Then remain Ereinion, if it pleases you. Perhaps he merely acts so because _Nolofinwë_ never became fashionable.'

He looked at her breathlessly before they both chuckled.

'He would not forgive you if he had heard that.'

She only smiled. 

'Will you and Elernil stay the night in Tirion?'

'Have I an invitation for dinner?'

'You know you have.'

Ereinion grinned.

'Then we shall stay.'

     --~~*~~--

Waking at the same time of night as she usually did, the time when Celebriníel usually woke, Celebrían listened to muffled crying sounds coming from the next room.

For a moment, she considered it strange, for the small crib her daughter slept in stood in this room, so she would hear everything, or, when sleep would not take her, could watch the child as it slumbered peacefully.

Beside her, Elrond was gone, the side already cold, even though the sheets had been lain back after he had apparently left. Quietly she slipped out of bed as well.

In the next chamber, Elrond was walking up and down with Celebriníel pressed against his chest, the small girl bitterly crying, her head against his shoulder, very tired indeed. She was suckling the cloth bunny, which Celebrían knew had been immersed in icy river water with some herbs, in an attempt to soothe the pain of teething. The item would no doubt soon need to be replaced. Or washed at least. 

'How long has she been awake?' she asked, stopping Elrond and kissing his shoulder blade, before closing her eyes and she resting her cheek against his back.

'A while... Did we wake you?'

'Not really,' she smiled. Celebriníel started to sob again. 

'Oh, my little one,' Celebrían shushed, placing her hand on the little girl's head. Small fingers clasped to her wrist and wet blue eyes looked at her miserably. 

'Shall I take her to bed with us?' Elrond asked. Celebrían nodded.

Placing a pillow upright, he sat down against it and rested his daughter against his chest. She uttered some tired throaty sobs, but then he softly started talking to her.

'Hush, my sweet... And I shall tell you what lies in the future...' Celebrían smiled and settled against him, knowing she would be fast asleep if she allowed herself to be swayed by her husband's voice. Elrond lightly stroked the child's back and continued. 

'In not fifty years time perhaps, you will be as beautiful as your mother, and I shall worry about you constantly, because you shall be going about your life, and forget about your old father...' he smiled, as she shifted her head, making almost no sound. '... And you shall be one of the fairest singers on Aman, because we will have taught you... As I was taught by Maglor, and as your mother learned it from her kin...' 

Celebriníel lifted her head for a moment, looking up. Then she rested it against him again, looking at her mother, only blinking her eyes once before closing them. Celebrían smiled and closed her eyes as well. 

'Yes, you will,' Elrond whispered softly, kissing her head. 'And you shall loose your heart to a good Elf and be happy until the end of Arda.'

He grinned.

'Or I shall throttle him with my bare hands.'

'Oh, be quiet El-nîn.' Celebrían mumbled.

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Celewilin: silver bird

Celerodwen: silver virgin

Celaith: silver spear point

Celebrohiril: silver horse lady

Celebwen: silver maiden

Celebrin: silver, silvery lady

Celebrilin: silver nightingale

meluihên: lovely-child

Essecarmë: 'Name-making', the ceremony in which the father-name of a child is announced.

Celebriníel: silver-like star/daughter

Imloth: flowering valley (apparently, Elrond's House is situated in a part of the countryside that is very hilly. So not as much a deep valley as Imladris was, but a valley nonetheless.)

haryon-nîn: my prince

Nolofinwë: Fingolfin's fathername, (The Shibboleth of Fëanor), Michael Martinez also discusses it here: http://www.suite101.com/article.cfm/tolkien/78484

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

I'm sorry, I have no idea who that lady was... *gets hit by Elvish boot* What?


	7. Visitors

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

**A/N**: Hmm, I know some people have already complained about the whereabouts of certain characters. The problem is, there are scores of them, I have to be careful not to introduce too many. It's confusing (as this chapter will no doubt show). So we'll see who gets in and who doesn't. 

Many thanks to kalurien, Gwilwileth and Joan Milligan, who proofread the chapter (as they usually do). *huggles them*

**Danielle**: Well, yes, it kind of was, wasn't it? *g* And thank you for the stamp of approval. You're not horrible... Stop coughing now! ;))

**Margaretha Zelle**: (o_0) I believe you (especially you), and I know. I just hadn't realised it. :)))

**Everyone else who reviewed**: thank you ever so much, and I'm glad you are all enjoying. Discontinue throwing boots already! :P

Hmm, I really don't know if there is something like chess in Middle-earth.

And that lady, they did sort of tell me who she was... But trust those Elves to be able to talk around it.

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Six** **Visitors**

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Everything was quiet around them, and all that mattered were her hands on his face, softly caressing every once in a while. He knew he was very close to falling asleep, to giving in to the peacefulness surrounding him...

Then, suddenly, there was a chuckle and a loud cry and he felt something fall onto him, little arms around his neck and both Celebrían and Celebriníel laughing loudly.

Opening his eyelids Elrond was confronted with twinkling blue eyes, very close by, before his daughter planted a wet kiss against his cheek and he started tickling her, drawing long and ongoing giggles from her as she tried to tickle back.

Giving her some time to breathe, though she never stopped chortling, he placed an arm around her and locked her into an embrace. 

Celebriníel gave up her struggle and rested against her father, meanwhile plucking a flower from between the grass and placing it in his hand before burying her face in the folds of his clothing. 

Looking up, her eyes met Elrond's, and he grimaced, making her hide her face again, laughing, only to repeat the whole thing a moment later. 

Watching her husband and daughter play this game of peek-a-boo, Celebrían smiled contently, running her hands through Elrond's dark hair. Still giggling, Celebriníel got onto her feet, running off again, and Elrond laughed softly.

Then he pushed himself up and turned. Looking at him, Celebrían was taken aback by the expression in his eyes.

'No, El-nîn,' she warned, nevertheless smiling broadly as he pinned her down beneath him. Giggling like her daughter as his fingers flew over her body, she half-heartedly tried to push him off, not succeeding. 

With a triumphant cry, Celebriníel returned and started helping her mother, mostly hindering her father's movements by dropping on top of him and throwing her arms around his neck again. 

Allowing himself to be overcome by the sudden joint effort, Elrond turned onto his back and surrendered.

'Stay, you two, or I shall go to Mandos laughing.'

His daughter draped herself over his chest and he rested his head on Celebrían's lap again. Elrond watched Celebriníel, who was momentarily preoccupied with a butterfly which had landed close by. He ran his fingers through the child's silver hair, not braided at present, though he was certain it had been this morning when they left the House. 

Bending forward, his wife brushed her lips against his for a moment, the gaze in her eyes playful. 

Catching his daughter with one arm, Elrond sat up again, guiding the girl down, and looked at Celebrían.

Without having to ask the question, he brought his hand to her face and kissed her properly.

They were happy, he knew. All of them. There was no need to ask.

Her fingers played with his ear and he smiled, catching the hand in question and pressing a kiss in the palm.

'Do not tempt me, _melethril_,' he smiled mischievously. 

'I do not think I started tempting, _melethron_,' she returned innocently.

Suddenly, Celebriníel was up, and ran towards a figure that was hastily coming near. 

'Rohir!' she cried excitedly, 'Ada, Nana, Rohir!'

It was indeed Elrohir that neared, his face alight with that familiar brightness. 

'Celebriníel!' he exclaimed, mimicking her enthusiasm. 'I almost didn't recognise you, you have grown so fast!.'

Picking her up and receiving a firm embrace from his sister, he smiled at his parents.

'Mîrlinde and I arrived back from Tirion just now, and we brought some guests.'

Elrond frowned.

'You brought them, didn't you? Then you are their host.'

Celebrían squeezed his arm.

'Be nice, El-nîn.'

Elrohir smiled broadly. 

'I shall be certain to relay that to the second Lord of the House of Finarfin and the second High Prince of the City.'

Sighing, Elrond rested his forehead on Celebrían's shoulder.

'Why not bring Manwë himself next time?' 

Grinning, Elrohir released his sister and placed her upon her own feet again.

'I shall pass on the invitation, but he is usually very busy.'

He happily received his father's glare.

'Be gone, Elrohir.'

Loudly laughing, his son turned and swiftly disappeared down the hill.

Trailing her fingertips across his cheek, Celebrían laughed.

'Come, El-nîn, you shall enjoy seeing them.'

He sighed exaggeratedly, bringing his face up, begging for her lips.

'_Faeg hên_,' she whispered. 

Celebriníel pulled her father's sleeve.

'Ada... House. 'Rohir.'

Looking at her, Elrond smiled.

'Very well, _meluihên_.'

Gathering her up in his arms, she rested a small arm around his neck.

Offering a hand, Elrond pulled Celebrían up and, fingers entwined, they began making their way back to the house. 

--~~*~~--

'Not a good idea,' Ereinion warned as Elernil hesitantly made to move a piece across the board.

The boy intently watched the other pieces, until looking up, a glimmer appearing in his eyes. He silently moved a pawn and received a satisfied nod from the High Prince. 

From afar voices became more apparent, and Elernil met his gaze again, searching for approval.

Ereinion nodded.

'Go.'

Jumping off the chair, the boy ran off, and from afar, Ereinion could hear Mîrlinde enthusiastically greet her son.

Then he discerned other voices. Elrohir's he could easily distinguish, but the others made him think for a moment.

Not Elrond, nor Elladan, he knew.

Thoughtfully he finally concentrated on the pieces scattered across the board. 

'How many moves away is victory?' someone asked him suddenly.

'Seventeen,' he answered without wavering. 'My cousin has built up a good defence.'

'He was taught well. Both by his father as well as his grandfather, no doubt. And dare I say most likely by you as well?' 

'Indeed.'

That voice had done the same as he had just done with Elernil, guiding him through a game, teaching him the intricacies of strategies. A long time ago; a different lifetime for the both of them.

For a moment he imagined he could smell the canvas of the tents at Hithlum. 

That short time had been precious. And then he had been sent away.

'At the time, I wondered if you would ever truly forgive me.' the other Elf said.

'It was the right decision. I would have done the same.' he answered, folding his hands in front of him, leaning forward.

'So angry you were... Your mother wrote to me of it often.' the other continued, as if he were somehow confronted with a vivid memory. 

'I was young and impressionable. I did not truly understand war then.'

A comforting hand was placed on his shoulder. 

'Reset the board?'

'If you like,' Ereinion replied.

The Elf walked around him and took the seat where Elernil had sat a moment before. Ereinion watched him. He looked unchanged. Eerily unaffected by what had happened since their last meeting in Middle-earth. Then again, he had been told it was similar with him. 

'Who did you bring?' he finally asked, opening the game by moving forward a pawn. 

'Finrod,' the other responded, reacting to the onset of the attack. 'I heard you spoke with your grandfather when you were last in the City.' 

'Naneth told you?' Perhaps there was no need to actually hear the reply. His mother would have. 

'Of course.'

'I see.'

'He should not have done so yet, it was not intended to go like it went. I am sorry.'

Rising and leaving the game rather abruptly, Ereinion walked over to the other side of the library. The other Elf slowly rose and followed.

--~~*~~--

They were alike, Elernil thought, standing in the doorway observing them. Very much alike; both dark-haired, grey-eyed. He watched the High Prince and one of the two Elf-lords that had arrived with his parents this morning speaking in hushed tones. 

On any other occasion he would have entered and listened quite openly, but somewhere inside him, there was a warning that this might not be the best of actions now.

It was evident Ereinion was upset about something. Somehow it frightened him, Elernil thought, because Ereinion was never cross. He was usually jesting, and telling stories. Not like this.

With bated breath he stayed where he was, trying to catch as much of the conversation as possible.

--~~*~~--

Below in the garden, Celebrían smiled as she made out the golden-haired Elf-lord standing amongst the various beds of flowers that grew there in abundance. He turned, most likely as observant of her as she had been of him.

'_Suilad_, niece,' he greeted her, before embracing her cheerfully. He looked at Elrond and grinned, catching his hand. 'Cousin.'

Elrond nodded with a smile at Finarfin's eldest son.

'Finrod, meet Celebriníel. Briníel, your great-uncle Finrod.' 

Hiding her face a little against her father's neck, the little girl nevertheless offered a small hand. 

Shaking it, Finrod gave her a beaming smile. 

'_Suilad_, Celebriníel.'

Her voice was a whisper, but Elrond felt his heart jump nevertheless.

'_Suilad_...'

Moving some of her wavy hair behind her ear, Elrond placed a proud kiss upon her forehead.

'Well done, Briníel.' 

She gave him a radiant smile and kissed him on the cheek. Then Elrond handed her over to Finrod, who gladly took her on his arm.

'How does Amarië, uncle?' Celebrían asked, causing Finrod to smile once more. 

'Well, as does our son. And your parents?'

'Very well, dwelling in the Gardens of Lórien as ever.' 

--~~*~~--

'I am sorry, I should have been there.' the Elf said. 'I was occupied in Aulë's Court. If I had received news earlier, I would have...' 

Ereinion raised a hand.

'You did not know he had sent for me.'

'Your grandfather can be very predictable. I should have guessed.'

'Stop apologising, Adar.'

Fingon smiled.

'I will.'

'Did mother send you?'

'Well, not entirely. She informed me you had visited the City while I was away and that your conversation with Fingolfin had hit some chord it should not have. But the reason for being here is really your cousin.' 

They stepped onto the balcony to see Finrod speak amiably with Celebrían and Elrond in the garden below. Celebriníel was seated on his arm. 

Trying to shrug off most of his irritation, Ereinion managed a smile.

'Will the City not miss one of it's most important Lords? Not to mention High Prince...' he mused playfully.

Placing his hands behind his back, his father smiled.

'I will not tell if you do not. Besides, we shall not be staying long.'

The three elves and the elf-child made their way up to the library, where Celebriníel wriggled herself off of Finrod's arm. She ran up to Ereinion, who already anticipated the event and with a squeal of delight plunged into his awaiting arms, before burying her face in his clothing.

A smile appeared on Fingon's face.

'You should have told me your reason for staying here was a lady.'

His son grinned.

'When she stopped biting me all the time, we grew to be great friends, did we not, Briníel?' 

With a broad smile she nodded, and there followed a unintelligible string of words.

Once finished, she glanced at Ereinion, who smiled and looked at his father.

'I believe she agrees, and tells you she is honoured to meet you.'

Celebriníel gave a soft touch to his face and then indicated she wished to be set down again, upon which she returned swiftly to her mother's side. 

'Absolutely delightful,' Fingon said.

'When she sleeps, yes,' Ereinion replied, pursing his lips. 

'And often not even then,' Elrond smiled, greeting Fingon and catching his hand for a moment. 'She shall be staying in her own room tonight. The first time.'

At that moment, Elrohir and Mîrlinde entered, pushing Elernil, who was still standing where he could not be seen, forward. They were closely followed by Glorfindel and Erestor.

Greeting both Finrod and Fingon, one of the conversations quickly turned to Tirion politics, the other, with Finrod and Celebrían, continued on the subject of family. 

--~~*~~--

Elrohir had already found that many of the more prominent Elves holding high positions in Tirion's governing body were adamant to forming the best possible circle of councillors around them. He had also discovered most members of the House of Elrond were considered to be a great acquisition for such privy councils. 

Both Glorfindel and Erestor had already been invited by Fingon as well as Finrod, but both had politely declined. 

And yet, the youngest son of Elrond had not been unsusceptible when offered a more prominent position in the City. 

During a quick visit to Tirion, after returning from the Gardens of Lórien, Fingolfin had invited him to sit in on a session with his private councillors. 

It had left Elrohir determined to speak of it with his father. 

He had heard of Ereinion's refusal to take up his own council, at least for the moment, it being rather a public secret, and had indicated to the High Prince he would much appreciate any input he would wish to offer also. 

Observing his younger son's eagerness to discuss the subject in more detail than just the slight mention he had made of it during a short private exchange, Elrond gave Ereinion a beckoning nod.

The three moved to the balcony to discuss matters further.

As Elrond leant against the balustrade, and Ereinion sat down, Elrohir looked from one Elf-lord to the other.

'I wish to join, Adar.' he said earnestly, his eyes meeting his father's. Elrond nodded. 

'Because I have no wish to, does not mean _you_ should not accept Fingolfin's offer.' 

Looking at Ereinion, Elrohir's eyes were questioning.

'I know it is little of my business, and urge you to inform me if you think I should hold my tongue, but if you were to enter into the political circles of Tirion, would you not prefer to have someone in your council who already knew its ways, so to speak?' 

Loathe though he was to admit it, Ereinion knew his cousin was hitting upon something. 

'If I were to enter, yes, I think it would be an advantage.' he said slowly, sitting back.

'Neither of you would hold it against me if I took the position, then?'

Elrond and Ereinion exchanged a quick glance before both smiling.

'We would not,' Ereinion said.

'Are Mîrlinde and Elernil to go with you to Tirion?' Elrond enquired on a more serious note. 

'If Elernil had been older, I would have allowed him to take up his messenger duties for Ereinion, which would make the point moot, but at present, I believe I would rather let him and Mîrlinde stay here. Tis my largest dilemma to be truthful, for it is not the way of our people to live separate as a young family.'

'Tirion is merely two hours away,' Ereinion remarked.

'You of all people know how much two hours can make a difference,' Elrond said.

Laughing, the High Prince sat back.

'This is Tirion. Not Lindon or Imladris.'

--~~*~~--

Elladan and Aurehen had observed the arrival, as well as the meeting of the Lord and Lady of the House with the Lord Finrod in the garden.

Aurehen had enquired whether Elladan wished to return to the house to greet the visitors, but he had declined.

She had found it somewhat strange, since usually he was the first to take it upon him to act as host when his father was not present. His leaving those duties to Glorfindel and Erestor seemed out of the ordinary to her.

He did not seem to worry about it much. Taking her hand, he had guided her away, and they had walked into the direction of the water-run.

There they sat a while, close to each other, seeing the glittering of _anar_ chase across the water. 

All the while he had spoken little. 

Pressing his lips against the bare skin of her neck Elladan softly whispered, his breath hot on her skin, making her shiver, but not of cold. 

'I love you.' 

Catching her hand he slipped her one of the silver rings he had carried with him for some months now. The other felt as if it burnt in his pocket.

Realising the right moment was most likely not going to come, he had decided to create it himself. 

Thoughtlessly he played with the hem of a layer of her dress. It was made of a quite beautiful material, slightly transparent, throwing a hue of blue over the white dress she wore underneath.

Kissing her neck again, he could discern just that little touch of her personal scent that made him utterly content. 

Elladan did not worry, as he felt her slightly touch upon his mind. There would be no decline. 

He watched Aurehen's stormy eyes as she turned to look at his face, turning the ring in her fingers.

'How long have you carried this around?'

He smiled, running his fingers over her covered thigh.

'Ever since I returned from Tirion with Ereinion and Elernil.'

She seemed slightly surprised, gazing upon him.

'This is nearly three months.'

Reddening somewhat, he nodded, looking away and back again. Then he placed his hand on her cheekbone and guided her close to kiss her, first slowly, yet quickly allowing it to turn more fiery. He felt her fingers catch his collar, just before she released his lips, holding him close. Self-consciously, he smiled at her once more.

'I feel a curious attraction to your lips, you see...' he whispered, studying her features. 'And all I wish is for them to be close whenever I desire to press my own against them.'

Aurehen chuckled, blushing deeply, watching the serious grey eyes display a twinkle.

'So you have an entirely selfish reason, my Lord?'

'Yes,' he replied, almost at once. 'But it can be such a pleasant reason for the both of us, lady.'

Finding himself with the other ring in his hand, he caught Aurehen's and placed it on her index-finger. Holding her breath, she did the same. 

Bending forward, his kissed her deeply, and felt her arms slip around his neck. 

'A pleasant reason indeed, Elladan,' she whispered against his lips.

It was only after a long while that they left the waterside and returned to the house, there sharing their happy news with the rest of the residents.

--~~*~~--

They stood watching from the doorway, as the little girl turned from her back onto her belly in her sleep. 

Most of their guests had gone off to their rooms, or were having some final conversations before finding their beds. 

Dinner had been quite amusing, with Glorfindel and Ereinion being up to their usual whimsicalness, especially after Elladan and Aurehen had announced their betrothal. 

Celebriníel had been taken to bed earlier, but it was only now that she finally slept.

'We can leave her now, I think.' Elrond whispered, catching Celebrían's hand.

Not allowing him to pull her with him just yet, she rested her hand against the doorpost.

'A little while longer, Elrond.'

'No,' he spoke softly, pressing against her from behind. 'You shall come with me...'

Placing a hand on her abdomen he pulled her away and softly closed the door with his free hand.

Holding back her hair he brought his lips to her ear.

'Imagine we shall have the bedroom all to ourselves now.'

'Hmm,' she replied, turning in his arms. 'You pretend you did not like the library and your study.'

With a chuckle Elrond pulled her even closer.

'I like the library... I like my study...' Gently he teased her lips with his. 'I just prefer the bed.'

Then he finally claimed her lips passionately, and Celebrían allowed him entrance at once, his tongue finding hers and making her desire surge in her belly.

'May I remind you the library is a public place,' came a voice from behind, 'as is this hallway.'

Ereinion strode by, raising an eyebrow as he passed. 

'Walk fast, Ereinion.' Elrond advised him under his breath, not taking his eyes off of his wife. 'Or I shall restrict the hallway.'

'I'm going,' the High Prince chuckled. 'But I warn you, Elernil is still around somewhere.'

Elrond grinned down at Celebrían.

'Bedroom?'

'Bedroom it is.'

Limbs entwined, they lay so for a long time after their breaths had slowed back to normal.

Elrond played with her hair, softly humming some tune or other.

Trailing a finger over his chest, Celebrían smiled at him.

'It is strange... I never thought I could be happier than I was this morning, but I am.'

Giving her a smug smile, Elrond nodded.

'I tend to have that effect on you.'

'You do?' Celebrían asked, trying to act surprised. 

'Of course,' he replied.

'I am glad you tell me these things,' she said, looking at him innocently. 

He smiled.

'Celebrían?'

'Elrond?'

'Be quiet and kiss me.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

melethril: lover (female)

melethron: lover (male)

meluihên: lovely-child

Ada/Adar: daddy/father

Nana/Naneth: mommy/mother 

Faeg hên: poor child

Hithlum: The misty, grey land held by Fingolfin and his people to the north of Beleriand, fenced by the Ered Wethrin mountain range (encyclopaedia of Arda)

Suilad: greeting

Finrod is of course Finarfin's eldest son (Galadriel's brother) and Fingon is Fingolfin's son (and in this case, also Gil-galad's father).

Amarië: beloved of Finrod, who remained in Valinor (their son is not canonical, mind you)

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	8. Preparations

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: Before anyone starts about whether Elves sleep with their eyes open or closed, I think that in safe situations, they sleep with their eyes closed. I personally would like to think that only in war-time, or times where one needs to be vigilant, this "_resting [the] mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as [one] walked open-eyed in the light of this world._" is appropriate. 

Thankies to Artanis for providing me with the name Anariel! (whatever comes from that is yours ;))).

Thanks to kalurien, Casey and Gwilwileth for the usual support and stuff.

Any mistakes are my own (basically because I tweaked after my betas were ready with it and I posted it before they read the new version). I beg forgiveness.

Ah, yes, and there is angst ahead. I can't help it, the elfies are making me do it...

*hands everyone lil pillows to hide behind and chocolate elfies*

  
*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Seven    Preparations**

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

He was grateful for the darkness that surrounded him and his ponderings. 

Some part of him found the night more peaceful, perhaps because the house was bustling with people during the day. 

After six years, Elladan and Aurehen had finally decided on a date for the wedding. That day was now swiftly approaching.

Guests were arriving continuously, and soon the more important Elves would no doubt be making an entrance. Even now the House of Elrond held its importance, was considered a good household to be in alliance with.

And yet it were not his guests, nor the wedding and it's preparations that occupied Elrond's thoughts at present. 

Earlier that evening, most of the household had been in the library, as was often the case.

It had been one of the scarce moments Elrohir was not in Tirion, and he had been speaking with his son.

Elernil had asked his father to tell him about the darkening of Valinor, and Elrohir, as much a storyteller as his own father, had happily complied.

Only one thing had been regretful, Elrond thought, his gaze resting on the small form lying in the bed which stood in the room.

He silently once again admonished himself for having allowed Celebriníel to stay in the library. He could have known, should have know, her age was too tender still to hear tales of that kind.

Even if he had not thought so at the time, he surely did so now.

Shrugging off his pondering state, he rose slowly and made his way to the door. It was slightly ajar, a soft light shining in from the hallway. 

'Ada,' came her voice softly, and he could clearly distinguish weariness in it. 'Are there spiders here? Large ones, not normal ones?'

In the darkness he smiled, before answering. 

'No spiders here, _meluihên_.'

'But what if they come?' her reply came almost immediately, as if she had anticipated his answer beforehand.

He felt sad for her, deep down. Yet another part of childhood innocence lost.

'They will not come, little one.'

'Will you fight them?'

'Huhhm...' he replied cautiously.

'Will Ereinion fight them too?'

Quietly going back into the room again, Elrond sat down on the side of the bed, which still seemed much too large for her small body. 

'They will not come,' he whispered soothingly, as he stroked her silver hair, which gleamed as some errant rays of Isil shone on it through an opening in the shutters. 'But if they would, Ereinion and I, and all the others would fight them for you.'

A small hand caught his, small fingers wrapped themselves around his larger ones, and he allowed himself to be pulled down beside her. Moving closer, she sought a protective place within his arms. 

'For Elernil too?'

Kissing her head, Elrond nodded.

'For Elernil too.'

With bated breath he waited for more questions, but they did not come. After a while, he knew she slept. 

Staying as he was for a while, he tried to remember if he had ever done the same with Elladan or Elrohir, or Arwen.

He recalled similar circumstances, but overall, his elder children had matured more swiftly, it now seemed.

Another example of how Aman was different from Middle-earth.

Carefully, he released himself from his daughter's grip and sat up. She had been sleeping in her own room for some years now, but still he could not keep himself from checking up on her before finding his own bed. 

As a rule, he would find her fast asleep. 

But tonight had been different. Quietly opening the door, he had found Celebriníel wide awake, sitting in the middle of that large bed, a small lantern on the nightstand, the sheets pooling around her, reading some book her mother had no doubt given her to read before going to sleep.

Upon seeing him, she had burst out in tears.

He had sat on the bed holding her and she had cried, her face buried in the folds of his clothing.

After a while of delicate questioning, he had received an explanation. 

'The spider.'

Ungoliant had been the spider to frighten his little girl enough to fear sleep. 

Softly speaking, he had reassured her, stroking her hair, had even considered taking her with him, but had eventually decided against it. 

She had trusted him enough to allow him to put out the light though, trusted him enough to sleep now.

Trusted him to keep her safe. 

Celebrían's voice was a whisper when it came.

'Elrond?' She touched his shoulder and he smiled up at her. She was already dressed for bed, and had no doubt missed him. 

'She was afraid to go to sleep,' he elucidated. 

'She sleeps now,' she countered with a patient smile, knowing very well how her husband could be caught up in his own mind at such moments. 

'I know,' he replied softly, stroking his daughter's hair, careful not to wake her. 

He was many times older than the child lying asleep in the bed. And yet, despite her short years, it seemed as if she had been with him for most of his own. 

'Perhaps she has been,' Celebrían whispered, moving some hair behind her husband's ear.

Elrond only smiled, before catching her hand and pressing a kiss in the palm. 

Leaving the door ajar, they crossed the hall and entered their own bedchamber.

He woke hearing the sound of soft whispers nearby, and found Celebrían and Celebriníel quietly speaking. Their daughter stood by the side of the bed, and Celebrían held the covers away.

'You can stay, but be very quiet, or your father shall wake.' 

With a nod, his daughter climbed into bed and lay down in her mother's arms. Celebrían kissed her head.

'Sleep now, _meluihên_.'

With a smile Elrond stretched his arm towards Celebrían's face and moved a strand of hair away, baring her ear and trailing a finger along the edge. She smiled at him and closed her eyes.

Pushing himself up a little, he settled against his wife, resting his head on her shoulder, and watched the little girl lying in the nook of her arm. 

He reached out to touch Celebriníel's hair, and even though he was as gentle as possible, it made her look up.

'Ada,' she smiled, and offered a small hand. 

Catching it, Elrond merely smiled. 

The girl seemed to look at her mother for a moment before she rose and climbed into her father's arms. Celebrían moved against him as well, and together they watched the small girl, whose eyes were closed again by now, her breath so very peaceful.

Neither Elrond nor Celebrían slept the rest of the night. There were soft whispers sometimes but most of the time they just watched Celebriníel. Hers seemed sleep enough for the both of them.

--~~*~~--

Elladan closed the door to his chambers and adjusted the collar of his tunic. 

From afar he could already hear the mumble of voices; the guests that had been arriving for the past couple of days. Breathing in deeply, he began making his way to the other side of the house, hoping he could have some private moments with Aurehen. The wedding-preparations were taking up much of their individual time, and regretfully also any time they could spend together. 

He could distinguish fast paces coming from behind, together with an amused humming, and felt a hand on his shoulder. 

'Nervous?' Ereinion asked.

'Yes,' Elladan answered, smiling broadly. 'Should I not be?'

The High Prince, dressed more stately than usual, even compared to his usual fine garments, shrugged amusedly, and winked. 

'I wouldn't know.' 

Then he walked past, swift-paced. 

'Where are you going?' Elladan called after him. 

Turning, walking a few steps backward, Ereinion smiled broadly.

'Why, the stables, naturally.'

After those enigmatic words, he was off again, down the hallway.

With a smile and a shake of the head Elladan turned a corner and found himself confronted with some wedding guests, who instantly started congratulating him. Initially resigning himself to the shaking of hands, Elladan smiled as his father approached and rescued him from the well-wishers.

'Thank you,' he whispered, as they walked into the chambers together, only glancing at the crowd.

'Not necessary,' Elrond smiled knowingly.

'I saw Ereinion run off a while ago...' Elladan started, more or less seeking an explanation for the High Prince's behaviour from someone who most likely knew more than he did. 

'Yes,' Elrond said, sounding greatly amused. 'Something to do with the Lady Anariel arriving.'

--~~*~~--

Offering his hand to the dark-haired Elf-lady, Ereinion assisted her dismounting her horse.

'Welcome,' he smiled, and she nodded.

'My Lord.'

A little further removed, her parents had descended from their horses too, and the High Prince nodded courteously. Her father seemed quite pleased to see him here, but Ereinion cared very little. Presenting his arm, he and Anariel walked off without waiting for the others.

'How was your journey?' he asked.

'Quite well, the weather is fine,' she answered, knowing he preferred simple niceties. 

Ereinion smiled.

'Good.'

'And how are you, my Lord?' she enquired, with a smile.

'Fine,' he replied, 'Quite well.'

Both were very aware of their lack of eloquence, but it did not matter.

Leading her into the main hall, Ereinion guided Anariel into the chamber where Elladan and Elrond were present as well, and he scanned the crowd for a moment.

Elrond raised an eyebrow at him, but the High Prince merely smiled, making his way to the other side of the room.  

There he tapped Glorfindel on the shoulder and achieved Anariel to release his, and take the other Elf's arm. 

'I would be much obliged if you would keep the lady Anariel company, Glorfindel,' he said.

Before the golden-haired Elf-lord could accept or decline, Ereinion had already vanished into the gathering again. 

Looking down, Glorfindel was confronted with twinkling grey eyes, and he could not help but smile.

'You know Ereinion?'

'My father knows his father,' she said softly. 'We have met several times in Tirion.'

'I see...'

'Now why did you do that?' Elrond asked, as Ereinion neared, having paid close attention to the whole scene.

'Do not act as if you are concerned,' the High Prince smiled smugly. 'Let us just hope her father will stop bothering _me_ now.' 

He patted Elrond on the shoulder. 'If anyone asks, tell them you do not know where I am. In any other case, I shall be in the library.'

Elrond and Elladan looked at each other and smirked, as they watched Ereinion exit the chambers.

Spotting Ereinion with Elrond, Glorfindel was uncertain as to whether he should be extremely angry or something else. He was not here to take care of the High Prince's responsibilities, or be the victim of one of his pranks. 

'You knew him in Middle-earth, I gather?' her question pierced his thoughts, and he looked at her, for the first time, before nodding.

'I did indeed know him there.'

She smiled and gazed across the room, though to no one in particular it seemed. 

'I only met him here on Aman. I have not been to Middle-earth.'

As she spoke, Glorfindel wondered what exactly her connection was to Ereinion. One could never be quite sure when it involved this particular Elf-lord. 

'You and he...' Glorfindel started, but stopped as she softly laughed.

'I was quite swift in discovering he had nothing more than respect for me,' she said. 'We are friends. Not even close ones at that. Though my father still seems to hope otherwise.'   

'Often I think he does not have respect for anyone,' Glorfindel weakly smiled. 

He looked back at Anariel to find an amused smile curl around her lips. 

'Has he changed much in comparison to who he was in Middle-earth? As a person?'

Narrowing his eyes Glorfindel stared into the distance for a moment. 

'Not a great deal.'

'I expected as much,' Anariel smiled. 

--~~*~~--

With a content sigh he sat down in one of the alcoves on the first floor of the library, opening the book he had been reading, and tilting the chair back onto two legs; leaning it against the wall. Perhaps there would be a little peace and quiet for him at last. From above some bright rays of _anar_ made the hidden niche a very good hiding place for now.

Mere moments later, he heard quick footsteps which made him rapidly lean forward and return the chair to it's original four legs. 

His father had always forbidden him to do it, and even now the warning seemed to be curiously embedded into his awareness. He made more sound than he had initially intended, and shrunk from the loud thump the piece of furniture made as the other two legs returned to the wooden floor. 

'Be quiet,' Elernil hissed as he slipped into the recess as well. 

'Excuse me?' Ereinion replied, raising an eyebrow.

'If Naneth finds me, she'll make me go out and meet everyone,' the boy said unhappily. 

Smiling, the High Prince observed the rather regal clothing Elernil was wearing. He recalled his own adversity to wearing such ceremonial garments when he was younger and smiled. 

'We can hide here for a while.'

Elernil's face brightened at once. 

'Can we play a game?'

Tongue in cheek, Ereinion nodded.

'If you can find a board and pieces without being seen.'

'Ha!' Elernil smiled, sneaking out the alcove again to make his way over to one of the large cabinets that stood on the other side of the library. 

Rising, Ereinion watched Elernil, holding his breath until he realised he was actually holding it.

Unaware of anything, he almost jumped when someone pulled his tunic.

'What are you doing?'

Blue eyes looked at him enquiringly and Ereinion could not help but chuckle in relief.

'You,' he said, picking Celebriníel up, 'gave me a real fright.'

'Sorry,' she smiled, the twinkle in her eyes indicating she was not truly apologetic at all. 

Swiftly making his way back, Elernil shot into the recess again and Ereinion returned to the table as well. The boy began to swiftly set up the board and pieces.

'Daeradar practised with me,' Elernil said matter-of-factly, 'He knows tricks.'

'Tricks?' Ereinion frowned, setting Celebriníel down on the table and sitting down himself. He looked at her. 'Does your ada know tricks?'

With a broad smile, Celebriníel looked back at him.

'Lots.' Then she hopped off the table and pulled out a book from a lower shelve. As she sat down on the floor and opened it, Ereinion returned his gaze to his cousin. 

There was a glimmer in Elernil's eyes.

'You will notice what I mean.'

'Really?' Ereinion smirked. An image of Elrond came to him, as much a boy as Elernil was now, using premeditated strategic set-ups to lure his opponents into a swift trap. Elrond had usually saved these 'tricks' for the matches he had little care to play, as to swiftly end them and still maintain his reputation as someone who would always accept a challenge. 

Only once had the then High King fallen for such a trap. He had learned then that the young Peredhel did not allow an opponent the luxury of being slow. If one did not make certain pieces had a definite freedom of movement, Elrond's opponents often found themselves trapped before the game of wills had actually commenced. 

That first time, Elrond had defeated him in a mere seven moves. From that time on, neither had challenged the other for a simple game. From that then on, every game had been a true battle. 

This same occasion seemed to have arrived for Elernil. 

As the boy opened, Ereinion ran all the possibilities and known strategies through his mind. Nevertheless his first move was quickly made. The reply came too quick for his liking and he eyed Elernil curiously. A moment ago, this had just been his cousin, sitting across the table from him. Now he was rather Elrond's pupil. All the while resembling Elrond too much for the High Prince to be comfortable with. 

As he watched the game in progress, Ereinion suddenly understood what Elernil was planning. Without letting it show, he began to set up his own counter-strike. 

Sitting on the edge of the chair, concentrating, Ereinion could feel a small hand catch his tunic and Celebriníel pulling herself up. As she swung small legs, first one, then the other, over the armrest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leant over his shoulder.

'Who is winning?'

Elernil stuck his tongue out, but Celebriníel seemed to ignore it. Instead, she watched the board while thoughtlessly playing with the top button of Ereinion's shirt. 

Then, when the High Prince thought he had everything in place to be able to win smoothly, Elernil brought out a piece and smiled. 

'Daeradar said you were going to fall for that.' 

Quite amazed, but amused at the same time, the High Prince looked at the board.

The boy was right. The game was over and done. 

He had broken one of the most important rules, one of his own most important rules; he had not paid attention to all the other moves. Not enough anyway. 

It had Elrond's name spelled all over it. Ereinion made a mental note to confront his friend. 

Somehow in battle, he had never been this careless. Perhaps because then, the pawns and other pieces were flesh and blood, and these merely marble. 

Celebriníel jumped off the chair and left the alcove much as she had entered it; silent and suddenly. 

Thoughtful, Ereinion pushed himself back, balancing the chair on two legs again. 

With a broad grin, Elernil showed what he had done.

'Want to play another...' he started, but then Mîrlinde's voice could be distinguished from below.

'Elernil, come down this instant!'

With a disappointed face, the boy left the chair and subsequently the niche, no doubt obediently making his way down and joining his mother. 

The High Prince, not yet ready to return to his book, studied the board and repeated the moves in his mind.

This had certainly been a game to remember. 

'Ereinion,' a well-known voice remarked, the tone cautioning. 'That chair has four legs, use them all wisely.'

As a reaction, the High Prince felt his heart skip a beat and he propelled forward, placing his hands flat on the heavy wooden table as he tried to balance his weight.

He closed his eyes as he heard the amused laughter, before he glared into the direction where Fingon stood. 

'Will you not do that?' Ereinion returned, rather more embarrassed because he had allowed himself to be surprised. 

Fingon entered and smiled, looking at the pieces on the board.

Rising, Ereinion embraced his father and smiled too.

'Elrond has told him 'tricks'.'

The other laughed.

'You know enough tricks of your own, I am certain. It is time you concentrated more on using them.'

Ereinion turned serious at once. The elder High Prince noticed and tried to make amends.

'I did not intend it like that, Ereinion, do not turn to anger.' 

With a shake of the head his son smiled, albeit weakly.

'I am not angry.'

Together they left the niche and stood by the railing, seeing Elrond and Fingolfin conversing on the lower floor.

'He promised not to speak of it.'

Nodding, Ereinion pursed his lips.

'I will go and greet him.'

'He would like that.'

As Ereinion descended the stairs, Elrond ascended them, understanding there was need for some privacy between grandfather and son. Fingon rested his hands on the railing and looked down.

Below Fingolfin exchanged some pleasantries with Ereinion, no doubt weighing the words he spoke, careful not to offend the elfling's temper again. 

The Lord of the House came to stand beside him at the balustrade, gazing downwards for a moment as well. 

With a smile, Fingon spoke the words that were most forward in his mind right now. 

'Methinks my father treats my son as if he were his own because Turgon chose to remain in Mandos. Perhaps after Fingolfin permanently lost his other son, he now tries to gain another. Mine.'

'Does that pain you?' Elrond asked, his voice not condemning, even if Fingon thought it should be. 

He had long realised this was an unnecessary sense of envy. Possibly it was because he feared to be left out. 

'It does too often.'

Elrond nodded.

'If I know Ereinion...'

'You know him.' Fingon interrupted shortly.

'... His loyalty is to you first, for he cares for you deeply, and has done so for two life-times.' 

The words rang true, the High Prince knew.

'And you are closest to his mother,' Elrond continued. 'Her opinion of Fingolfin is largely his also.'

With a grin of acknowledgment, Fingon looked at Elrond and smiled.

'Most of her opinions are his also.'

--~~*~~--

He felt the handle of his blade lie comfortably in his clammy hands.

All around him, it was chaos, but in his mind there was a system to it, there were no worries.

He felled some orcs, it was easy, because this was not as it had been then, this was just a weak image that somehow replayed itself in his mind, and he could make certain the worst images were locked out.

_Worst images? What do you mean?_

And then any control he had disappeared. Suddenly it all was real, and he had to fight to protect his life... And not only his own...

He could see the dark haired Elf-lord close by, he could hear, could feel, what was approaching from the other side. It had been the subject of most of his nightmares for the first centuries of the Third Age.

Did he want to see? Why could he not see it? 

_No..._

Cold grey eyes stared at him.

_Please let me wake..._

The plain was empty, just the two of them, or rather just him alone. 

Dropping down beside the body he buried his head in his hands. 

_You know this is not real. _

That does not make it less painful. 

_But he is alive... If you wake and walk across the house, he shall be there. _

Then let me wake. 

_I cannot make you wake. You alone are the master of this dream..._

With a scream he was up and conscious, safely at home. Speedily he rose from the bed and made for the next chamber, where he splashed his face with cold water. 

'Are you alright?' came a voice from behind.

'Yes,' he smiled, turning. Before he had even seen the face of the person speaking, he already knew something was amiss. He was not at home. This was... Imladris... 

Staring into grey eyes that more than anything resembled his own, as her face did, he swallowed.

The Elf-lady looked worried.

'Ada? What is wrong?'

His voice was gone. He watched her smile, before she took his hand.

As they left the chambers that had been his for over an Age, they were suddenly in Lothlórien. 

Cerin Amroth...

He tried to stop, but she wouldn't let him. 

'Arwen...'

Still holding his hand, she lay down.

'It is alright, Ada,' she said.

_I have to wake._

He looked around, only to find Celeborn. 

'You have to help her,' he tried, finding his daughter's hand cold in his already.

The silver-haired Elf-lord shook his head.

'I cannot.'

'You have to...' he started, 'You have to try... I tried to help Celebrían... Even if I could not keep her in Middle-earth, I tried, Celeborn, I tried.'

_Please let me wake..._

Rising to his feet, he tried to near the other, but he was gone. Looking back, Arwen too, had disappeared. In her place, lay a green mound. 

_Her grave will be there until the shape of the world is changed. _

Then it became dark all around him. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^  
  


the darkening of Valinor: the destruction of the Two Trees of Valinor by Morgoth and Ungoliant shortly before the beginning of the First Age

meluihên: lovely child

Anariel: sun maiden

Hmm, as I said before, I assume Ereinion, Elrond and Elernil play something like, if not identical to, chess.   
In chess, the move of a white piece, and the subsequent response from a black piece are counted as one move. So seven moves, are seven moves by both players, fourteen in total. 

Peredhel: singular for Half-elven (Peredhil is Elrond's epessë and the plural)

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Aaaw, and stop worrying... I wouldn't do evil stuff to Elrond, right? Right? 

Hehehe...


	9. Nuptials

**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

A/N: Thanks to ShinElrond for helping me when I was stuck. *huggles!!*

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Eight    Nuptials**

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Breathing heavily he was awake, and felt Celebrían's hands on his chest. 

The room was dark, and for a single moment he panicked, only to be soothed by her familiar voice close by.

'You are awake, be still, El-nîn.'

The next instant, she spoke again, her voice rather worried. 'I could feel the dream, but could not help.'

He nodded, sitting up, resting his head in his hands for a moment.

'That was very unpleasant,' he said softly, before fleeing into her arms. 

'Perhaps you want to get some fresh air?' Celebrían suggested, holding him close. 

'Yes,' he whispered, still fazed by the vivid imagery. 'I think I would.'

Stumbling out of the bed, finding some robes to put over his sleeping attire, he decided against the bath chamber, and made his way into the hallway, entering the library before long. 

It was in less of a twilight state than the bedroom, the moon shining in from the large windows and through the open balcony door. 

Instead of entering his study, he decided to step onto the balcony. No doubt the fresh night air would do him good. 

But before he could step out, he was grabbed and pulled back by the arm, confronted with Ereinion pressing a finger against his lips.

'Do not go there.'

'Why on Aman not? And do you never sleep?' Elrond replied, nevertheless lowering his voice.

'Glorfindel is on the balcony,' Ereinion sniggered, pulling his friend away. 'I would not want anything to disturb him. And as for sleep, I have very little need of it.'

'Why is he on the balcony?' Elrond asked, allowing himself to be pulled away.

Ereinion grinned broadly.

'He is with Anariel.'

Elrond raised an eyebrow.

'Why is he... Oh.'

The High Prince nodded smugly. 

'Indeed. They seem to have taken a liking to each other.'

'No,' Elrond smiled, 'Most likely he is merely being courteous.'

Returning the smile knowingly, Ereinion began walking into the direction of Elrond's private study.

'Of course. He is being courteous in the middle of the night. And I am a Balrog. Why are you up anyway? I'd prefer my wife's arms, had I a wife, to a lonely study.' 

Not answering to the jest, Elrond sat down.

'Nightmare.'

It was Ereinion's turn to frown.

'Why would _you_ have nightmares?' 

'If I knew, I would probably not be here,' Elrond snapped back, only to put his hand to his forehead.

For a moment Ereinion contemplated to go on in jest, but decided otherwise. Perhaps because Elrond's face reminded him of that of a small boy and his brother he had once known, a life-time ago. 

'What was it about?' he asked, half-sitting, half-leaning against the desk.

Sighing, Elrond looked up.

'About death. Dagorlad, Cerin Amroth. You, and Arwen.'

'Me and Arwen?' the High Prince returned, trying very hard to keep any tone of amusement out of his voice.

Elrond smiled weakly. 

'First your death, then Arwen's.' 

Ereinion was silent for a while. It took him quite some concentration to keep the images from his own nightmares to jump out from the shadows.

'I know the horror of dreaming of Dagorlad... I can only imagine those that accompany the death of a daughter,' he finally spoke, understanding in his eyes. 

Still attempting to be rid of the images, Elrond tried to smile.

'Let us speak to me of something else.'

'Twould be better if you spoke to someone of these nightmares.'

'Perhaps, but not now,' Elrond replied, sinking back in the chair. The High Prince nodded and lifted himself nimbly onto the desk. Both were silent for a moment, but then Ereinion chuckled softly. 

'I was made aware of you teaching your grandson _tricks_.'

'Well, yes.' Elrond grinned. 'He has a nearly seven-thousand-year-old mind across the table from him. I thought I would even the odds a little.'

Pursing his lips, the other nodded.

'He lacks your flair of telling an opponent the game has been played.'

'No doubt in time, he shall develop his own. I would not want him to mimic my way of playing. For a time, I lost all pleasure in the game merely because all I could think of was winning.' Elrond looked at Ereinion. 'I seem to recall you were the one who preferred strategies.'

'Strategies are often useless in a game,' the High Prince said. 'In battle your opponent is fallible. My opponents in chess tend to be near-perfect.' He smiled to himself. 'I suppose it is not wise to treat one as the other. A player seldom gets the desired or expected effect.'

Sitting forward, Elrond smiled.

'Elernil was very proud of himself.'

'I can imagine,' Ereinion returned. 'He swept me off the board.'

'You always fell for such things. Too forthright while playing.'

'Are you calling me predictable?'

Chuckling, Elrond rose.

'I would not dare, my Lord.' He looked at Ereinion. 'I think I shall try and rest some more.'

With a glance towards the balcony, Ereinion looked back at Elrond.

'Perhaps I should do the same.'

Catching Ereinion's arm, it was Elrond who now pulled the other Elf along. 

'I think that is a very good idea.'

They parted at the entrance of the library, and both silently began the way back to their individual chambers.

--~~*~~--

Glorfindel smiled as he listened to her voice, the slight intonations that he had taken for granted before, now almost as music to his ears. 

They had had a pleasant evening, and not for a moment had he even contemplated returning her to Ereinion, as he had planned before, when he had still been somewhat displeased by actions taken.

Perhaps the High Prince did not appreciate her presence much, but something in Glorfindel did. 

And as the evening progressed, they had gone to dinner with all the other guests, and afterwards found a peaceful place on the library balcony. 

It had become night, and still they were here, as if there was not a single subject allowed to remain un-discussed. And yet, there was no fear in his heart that the subjects would run out.

It reminded him of Middle-earth, where the feasts of Imladris had always gone on well into the night, often still going strong in the mornings. 

_I have jested of this_, Glorfindel thought, as he listened to Anariel speaking of some Lays she had heard during a festival in Tirion not long ago. _But what is there truly to jest about? Would I mind terribly spending the rest of my physical existence here on this balcony? And the remainder of my spiritual life in her presence?_

Then he laughed inwardly. 

He was content here, now. A near eternity lay before him. He was not in a hurry. 

Looking back at her he found her inquisitive grey eyes resting on his face.

'What amuses you, my Lord?'

Smiling, Glorfindel offered his arm. 

'Only that we have forgotten the time, my Lady. I shall escort you to your chambers.'

A knowing smile on her face, she accepted, and together they left the library.

'I merely wish to say I much enjoyed your company, Lord Glorfindel,' she said.

Nodding, he returned her delighted expression.

'It was the same for me, my Lady.' He paused for a moment. 'I hope you will grant me the honour of accompanying you to the ceremony tomorrow.'

'It would be my honour,' she replied.

Looking at his feet for a moment Glorfindel chuckled, then gazed upon her again.

'Very well.'

--~~*~~--

A soft singing drifted through the air, and Elrond allowed his eyes to find what his ears had already.

As he had thought to recognise, it was Aurehen who walked in the garden below, singing, Elladan by her side, both of them seemingly unaware to what went on around them. 

Upon arriving on the higher terrace outside the rooms he shared with Celebrían, he found his wife waiting, evidently also having decided she was not ready to go back to sleep yet. 

_Do you remember how that felt?_

Celebrían's voice was in his mind, and he smiled, walking over to her and placing his arms around her.

Then, they watched their son, together with the one he loved.__

'I do,' he whispered, resting his head on her shoulder. 

The year before their marriage had largely been spent in Lothlórien, catching up on the time they had missed during the Second Age. 

That period in their lives together had flown by so quickly. As if it had been spent in the comfortable surroundings of a dream. 

His arms lightly around her waist, he pulled her closer, before he moved her hair away, and kissed her neck.

It was too easy to discern a normal kiss from a lover's one, in Elrond's case. 

Celebrían tilted her head back against his shoulder, and allowed his fingers to trail their way up to her neck, where they stroked her neckline, not absently, though his mind was most definitely somewhere else.  

'Did you know my parents arrived?' she asked, her eyes now closed.

'Did they?' he asked inquisitively. 'I was not aware.'

'Little wonder,' she whispered with a smile. 'I was only just informed of it myself.'

Hand in hand they returned inside, leaving everyone still awake to the light of _Isil_. 

--~~*~~--

Ereinion had heard the sound of singing too, there seemed to be many voices in the air tonight.

Not as many as there would be tomorrow, he knew. Tomorrow night would have lost the air of anticipation that unmistakably lingered now.

Tomorrow, wine would flow richly, and the most delicious dishes would be for the tasting for as long as one wanted to eat. Soon to be lovers would meet, and old lovers would sing of new devotion, and relive it all. 

He pondered it all, his heart nevertheless light, as he found the door to his rooms slightly ajar. 

With a chuckle he entered soundlessly.

If this had still been Middle-earth, if he had still been the person he had been then, he would have had no doubt as to the reason. Enough ladies had found their way into his rooms then, intentional or not.

But here, he knew it was an entirely different reason. 

He had not been in his rooms all evening, spending it talking and discussing, trying to act as his grandfather wished him to. His only real amusement had been observing Glorfindel from the corners of his eyes, and seeing he and Anariel got on quite well.

And now, curled up near the foot of the bed, Elernil, dressed in his night clothes, was lying fast asleep.

Very silently, leaving the door open as it was, Ereinion nudged the boy, who turned and moaned softly. 

'What is amiss with your own bed and requires you to take mine instead?' he said, having a hard time keeping his face serious. 

Elernil was up and awake the next moment.

'I didn't mean to fall asleep,' he stuttered, 'I merely wished to wait for you to return.'

'It is well into the night. Do you have any notion as to what would happen if your mother is not able to locate you? Hmm?'

'In the end, she would find me though.' The boy grinned, and Ereinion could not help but return it.

'Fresh, you are.'

A radiant smile appeared on Elernil's face.

'Can I stay?'

For a moment the High Prince seemed undecided.

'I suppose... Were it not for this dreadful hour, I would tell you to go and inform your mother. But I doubt she would appreciate it. I will be back presently.'

Disappearing in an adjoining chamber, Ereinion changed into the more comfortable garments in which he usually slept, and returned to where Elernil now sat. 

In his absence, Elernil had evidently hopped off the bed to collect a book from one of the shelves. 

He was now, wide awake, perusing it, searching for the large colour depictions of important events in Middle-earth history. 

'What is this?' he asked, handing Ereinion the book. 'It says Gil-galad, but it looks like you.'

Not able to find words, he stared at the drawing. 

Had it been like that? He could not remember clearly. He did not want to remember clearly. 

'Ereinion?' he heard Elernil's voice. 'Are you all right?' 

Silently he nodded. 

'I am quite...'

There had been drawings in his grandfather's libraries. Somehow they had made their way to Aman, or had been drawn here by those who had witnessed it. For a long time, they had been kept away from him.

When he had first stumbled upon one... No. Stumbled upon was the wrong choice of words. He had observed others long enough to know something was in certain books. A something that was repeatedly being kept from him. And when he had finally found it, he had not understood.

But it had initiated the nightmares. 

Where the pictures had always shown the situation from an observer's point of view, his nightmares were always as if he were reliving them. Perhaps that was why he had grasped Elrond's situation so well tonight.

Many years he had not identified with the visions, had not comprehended. 

And then he had remembered. 

Elernil watched the High Prince shiver involuntarily. 

With persistent fingers he wrenched the book from Ereinion's grip. It did not seem to make a difference.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. Then he silently slipped off the bed and left the room. 

Making his way through the corridors, he entered the only room in the house besides Ereinion's that he dared enter without knocking. 

As soon as he entered, a light was dimmed.

'Oh, it's you,' came Celebriníel's voice, and the light was turned up again. 

'You have to come with me.'

'Why?' she asked, looking at him, not understanding. 

'It's Ereinion.'

Elvishly quick and silent, the two children made their way through the passageways again, and entered the High Prince's chambers. 

He was no longer on the bed, and Elernil was surprised to find him on the balcony, the book of before in his hands, though with a different picture there. 

'You should both be asleep,' he mumbled. 

'But we thought you were...'

'Both of you, off to bed.'

'But Ereinion...'

'Get going.'

Elernil looked at Celebriníel. 

'I shall stay here, you must go back to your rooms.'

With a shrug Celebriníel stepped onto the balcony and placed a hand on the High Prince's knee.

'Night-night, Ereinion.'

'Goodnight, Celebriníel.'

Sitting down just around the corner, Elernil waved at Celebriníel as she left the room. He knew Ereinion was aware of him. He might be out of sight, but was certainly not out of hearing range. And yet, his presence seemed to be accepted. In any case, he could not go. Partially, this was all his fault.

Ereinion listened to the boy, moving slightly every once in a while.

_You are scaring him._

'Elernil,' he called. 'Go to sleep.'

'Only if you do too.' came the reply. 

With a sigh, he pushed himself up from the bench and left the balcony, gently catching the boy by the tunic and pulling him up. 

'Off you go.'

Elrohir's son looked at him. 

'You go to sleep first.'

'As soon as you reach maturity you can attempt to send me to bed, but for now,' he led the boy towards the door. 'You shall do as I say.'

Closing the door behind Elernil, he brought his hand to his head and sighed.

'Still, he has a point, Ereinion...'

He dropped himself onto the bed and pulled the blankets around him. As he lay his head against his arm, he heard the door open again, but did not react on it. 

Only when he felt someone settle on the bed did he open his eyes to mumble a comment.

'Why would you pay attention to anything I say?'

Curling up beside him, Elernil looked at him seriously.

'I never meant to upset you.'

Smiling, Ereinion closed his eyes again.

'I know, it is all right.'

'Can I stay?' the boy asked hopefully.

'Close your eyes and be quiet, Elernil.'

Nodding, the boy lay his head on a pillow. 

'Night, Ereinion.'

'Goodnight, Elernil.'

For some time, the boy watched the High Prince, until he had ascertained his friend truly had gone asleep. Then he too succumbed to walking the paths of dreams. 

--~~*~~--

Elernil was woken because Ereinion tossed a pillow at him. 

'Rise, little keeper, for you have to dress and be ready soon.'

He watched the High Prince, already dressed in a splendid blue and silver, his hair loosely braided, ready to go. 

Yawning, Elernil rolled off the bed and smiled.

'Someone needed to keep an eye on you, so I didn't go to sleep at once.'

Laughing, Ereinion neared Elernil and threw him over his shoulder, the boy meanwhile chuckling relentlessly.

Moving swiftly through the corridors, the High Prince knocked on the door and presented Elernil to his mother.

'One elfling, ready to wash and be clothed for his uncle's wedding,' he smiled. Mîrlinde took over the giggling boy.

As he walked down the corridor, Elernil called to him, momentarily able to escape his mother's watchful eye.

'Can I sit with you during the ceremony?'

Turning, Ereinion grinned broadly.

'We shall see.'

He met up with his father at the next cross-section. 

'The house of Elrond is blessed with many important guests.' Fingon commented, as they continued their way together.

'High Princes abound, I believe.'

'Indeed, but we also have Finrod and Amarië. And Finrod came with his father.'

Ereinion raised an amused eyebrow.

'The High King personally! Most representatives of the remaining houses are here then, so to speak?'

'The House of Elrond is greatly honoured, without a doubt,' Fingon smiled. 

'As it should be,' Ereinion grinned. 

--~~*~~--

Aurehen listened to the gentle music and soft singing as she felt Elladan, who stood beside her, held her hand for a moment, squeezing softly. A soft breeze chased over the grounds, leaves rustling about them, the smell of flowers apparent in just the right way. 

They found themselves underneath a small roof of leaves and ivy wrought together. 

People were still talking, but neither of them was very aware of it, turning to each other.

Suddenly brought back to the present, Elladan looked up at his father, confronted with laughing eyes.

With a slow, graceful movement, he removed the silver ring from his index finger and was handed a silver chain. Placing the band upon the necklace, he fastened it around Aurehen's neck, chuckling somewhat as her hair got in his way.

A moment later, he bent his own head to receive her ring around his neck.  

Looking at her, dressed in white and grey, as he was himself, Elladan noticed the blush on her cheeks. 

Catching her hand once more, he bent forward to whisper something in her ear, making her smile.

Celebrían took a hold of Elrond's hand and felt him return pressure gently. 

Aurehen's mother, Aryanrë, a striking Vanyarin lady, stepped forward and joined the couple's right hands.

'Elbereth Gilthoniel, alae i erthad uin Elladan a Aurehen ned Imloth.'

Releasing Celebrían's hand, Elrond too, stepped forward. His voice soft, but somehow as audible as ever, he spoke the words the father of the groom was expected to speak for the first time in his life.

'Manwë Súlimo, alae i erthad uin Elladan iôn ned Elrond a Aurehen iell ned Dîrhûn.'

Solemn-faced, Elrohir stepped forward, opening the ornate wooden box, in which lay two golden rings. 

Elladan collected one of the bands and caught Aurehen's hand. 

'Ilúvatar, galu am i erthad...' he spoke, slipping the ring onto her index-finger.

Aurehen looked at him for a long while, and Celebrían knew she was softly speaking to him. Then the Elf-lady retrieved the second ring, and held the hand Elladan already offered.

'Eru, aen manadhpant...'

Their fingers entwined the instant the band was placed on Elladan's finger.

'_...a uireb_.' Elrond's eldest son whispered, before bending down and slowly pressing his lips against his lady's. Her hand rested on his side and as they ended the kiss, she smiled up at him. 

A loud cheer went up among the crowd and Elladan and Aurehen, both beaming, began to accept the many congratulations.  

After making the rounds, Ereinion finally congratulated Elrond, as they together stood aside a little. Celebrían was taking care of most guests, receiving congratulations and speaking with many. 

'You have many prominent guests,' Ereinion commented.

Elrond nodded slowly. 

'We, without a doubt, have. Finarfin honours us much with his presence.'

'You forget you and Celebrían have united the Houses of Fingolfin and Finarfin.'

With a gentle pat on Ereinion's shoulder, Elrond grinned.

'I did not forget, my friend.'

A moment later, Celebriníel and Elernil came running. Dancing around him, Elrond's daughter made the High Prince lift her. 

'Did Aurehen not look pretty?' she asked. 

He agreed with a firm nod.

'She did. And you do too,' he added, pointing at her white dress and the gems in her hair. Celebriníel beamed. 

'I want to get married too... Can I Ada?'

Patting Elernil's shoulder absently, Elrond smiled at his daughter.

'When you grow up, of course.'

'Who would you marry?' Elernil asked. 'I do not wish to get married I think.' 

Celebriníel grimaced. 

'You do not wish to be married because Ereinion is not.'

'Not true,' Elernil snapped. Winking, Ereinion indicated their alliance. 

On his arm, Celebriníel seemed to ponder her options. 

'Well, since everyone else is married, or too old, I shall have to marry Ereinion.'

Blinking, the High Prince looked at her.

'Marry Glorfindel. Erestor.'

She shook her head.

'He is with that lady now,' she pointed at Glorfindel and Anariel, who seemed to be enjoying each other's presence tremendously. 'And Erestor is too old.'

Trying to ignore Elrond's amused laughter, though smiling along, Ereinion lowered Celebriníel. 

He then offered a hand to Elernil.

'Come, we shall do bachelor-fitting things now.'

'Horses?' Elernil asked, his face lighting up.

'Horses it is.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

lay: short poem meant to be sung; song

Aryanrë (Aryante means Daybringer, and -rë is the feminine ending of the 3rd person singular in Quenya)

Dîrhûn: (Sindarin) Elf of the East  dîr = archaic referring to a grown male (Elf, man whatever), rhûn = east 

Apparently Dîrhûn of the Noldor was one of the Elves that returned to Aman after the Last Alliance (so somewhere during the Third Age) and there he was wedded to Aryanrë of the Vanyar

Mistakes in the Elvish are mine of course. 

Elbereth Gilthoniel, alae i erthad uin Elladan a Aurehen ned Imloth: Elbereth Gilthoniel, behold the union of Elladan and Aurehen of Imloth.

Manwë Súlimo, alae i erthad uin Elladan iôn ned Elrond a Aurehen iell ned Dîrhûn: Manwë Súlimo, behold the union of Elladan son of Elrond and Aurehen daughter of Dîrhûn.

Ilúvatar, galu am i erthad: Ilúvatar, blessings upon the union

Eru, aen manadhpant: Eru, may it be blissful

...a uireb: ...and eternal. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	10. Insight

**High Princes of Tirion**

by Nemis

A/N: *throws chocolate elfies to all*

**Loquacious**: It's interesting to speculate on who speaks what kind of Elvish, Sindarin or Quenya (or Telerin, or whatever). Even though the story is taking place on Aman, I think there is a growing group of Elves that speaks mainly Sindarin, whereas Quenya, even on Aman, is turning into what for example Latin has become in our time; a sort of official (academic) language (not for nothing is it also called Elven-latin). And the House of Elrond would be a Sindarin community (though most Elves there most likely speak Quenya as well, if it is required). 

About the other Ringbearers, and them not being mentioned much, they weren't very important in "A Tale" and though perhaps Mithrandir might show up in the story later, I'm no speculating on what happened to the Hobbits. There are far better writers than I who have ventured there. I'll stick to Elfies (and then some).

**morchaint** and **Fiona Rayne**: Ah, lil Celebriníel has different ways to measure Elves being "old". Perhaps this is a good thing for Erestor. ;))

**Finch**: You got me there. Extra cookies and choco-elfies for you. 

**The Plutonian Cow**: I think when an Elf claims to be of a certain house, it does not automatically means he is a member by line of blood. You can say Glorfindel and Erestor are Lords of the House of Elrond, but that does not necessarily indicate they are actually related to Elrond himself. I do not think Gildor is Finrod's son, nor his grandson. Don't think you can canonically prove or disprove either. Though one can make a good case of it, no doubt. 

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**Chapter Nine    Insight**

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'Come on,' Celebriníel motioned Elernil into her parent's chambers.

'No, I will not.' he replied. This was all well and good when it concerned his own parents, but his grandparents...

Celebriníel watched him as she stood in the doorway. She never understood her nephew's fear for her father. He might be tall and impressive, but he was not that scary. And her parents' bed was simply the best one to jump up and down on. But she knew he wouldn't come.

'Oh well, let us instead go and wake Ereinion.'

Elernil was more disposed towards that, and followed his aunt towards the opposite of the wing.

The High Prince's door was slightly ajar and Celebriníel pushed it open in the manner she knew would not make a sound.

Even though Ereinion spent most of his time either away or in the study or at one of the libraries, he had many books in his rooms, all lying at strange places, some opened or with pieces of parchment in them, others in towers of wisdom, beside the desk or bed.

He had been writing, she observed as she saw the craftily made pen lying discarded beside an ink jar. She liked pens, and, like her father, Ereinion had pens of glass, which only needed to be dipped into the dark ink once to be able to write at least an entire page.

She picked it up and turned it in her fingers; the dark-coloured stem carefully twisted to fit into slender Elvish fingers, the tip clear as diamond, with notches in it to hold the ink once it had been submerged in the dark liquid.

As Elernil nudged her, she placed it back on the writing table, and together they sneaked closer to the bed where the unsuspecting Elf-lord still lay fast asleep.

His arm draped around a pillow, his face against it, Ereinion was indeed resting.

Celebriníel looked at him from the side, and after a moment chuckled before walking to the end of the bed.

She had done this so often one would expect Ereinion to lock the door by now. Yet he never did.

There had to be some gene or instinct that had somehow allowed the High Prince to remain as perceptive of close-by movement as he had been while still a soldier, in his previous life-time.

The weight of small bodies on the mattress did not go by unnoticed, but he kept his eyes closed, burying his face deeper against the pillow, trying not to laugh.

Climbing onto the wooden board at the end of the bed, Celebriníel took a high jump and landed beside Ereinion, mere moments before Elernil, too, jumped onto the bed.

With triumphant cries, the elf-children began hopping around, making the High Prince quite unable to continue pretending.

'Not you again,' he grumbled as he caught Celebriníel's leg and pulled her down, tickling her, pulling even louder yelps from her.

Elernil jumped onto his back the next moment, trying to help Celebriníel escape nimble fingers.

With a careful but firm grasp, Ereinion caught his cousin's shirt and pulled him off, now causing two prisoners to laugh relentlessly.

'So you two think you can just come in here and disturb my much-needed rest?'

'No!' Celebriníel squirmed as she tried to free herself.

'It was her idea!' Elernil cried, as he too, unsuccessfully, tried to escape.

'Why me? Hmm? Why not your parents? They wanted you in the first place.' Ereinion continued, still tickling.

Neither of the children was able to answer due to incessant giggling and gasps for breath. With a smirk, the High Prince released them.

'So, when will you be ready Elernil? Or did you forget?'

'Did not forget,' the boy smiled. 

'Can I come too?' Celebriníel asked, trying to look as sweet as possible. 

'No.' Elernil replied simply.

Glaring at her nephew, Celebriníel finally turned to Ereinion. 

'Aw,' she pouted, before giving him a broad smile. 'Please?' 

'Next time, Briníel,' he smiled. 'I promised Elernil we would go together.'

'Be careful', he called over his shoulder, as he jumped over a fallen tree, feeling how slippery the mosses growing across the bark had made it. But most likely, his follower would be very well able to keep his balance.

Elflings tended to have a good feel for those things. 

_Ah, but how much are you still an Elfling?_ he asked himself with a smile. 

They were both running at nearly full speed, because the wind smelled of the early summer and the branches seemed to bend out of their way. 

Taking the high road, Ereinion had already decided that, unless the weather changed considerably, they would swim across the river, where they had left their horses to graze.

In case of extremely bad weather, during which he did not dare trust the usually easy waters, they would take the lower road back.

Upon reaching the deciduous forest, where the trees stood further apart, Elernil passed him, because he slowed. For a moment, Ereinion simply stood there and listened.

Elernil slowly came walking back and eyed his cousin curiously. 

'Is something the matter?'

Pressing a finger against his lips, Ereinion shook his head.

'Simply listen.'

The boy listened for a moment, then shrugged.

'It is quiet.'

'That is what I mean.'

The younger Elf shrugged.

'There were birds before, but they are quiet now.'

Raising an eyebrow, Ereinion looked at him.

'You must have scared them all away, jumping around as you are.'

Catching the High Prince's teasing tone all too well, Elrohir's son rolled his eyes. Then he turned and ran off again.

Following, Ereinion watched Elernil quickly cross the stream. As he neared, he stared at the rocks his cousin had just used to reach the other side. Some sort of official crossing might not be out of place, for when the water would rise in autumn, the stones would be of little use, all of them most likely swallowed by the water. 

'When do you think Elladan is coming back? And Glorfindel?' the boy meanwhile called over.

They began walking upstream, each on either side of the river. The High Prince answered while his eyes searched for the best location to situate a wooden bridge. 

'Well, Elladan is almost certainly having too nice a time with Aurehen to want to come back. And Glorfindel...'

Elernil nodded.

'That lady likes him, you know.'

'Yes,' Ereinion grinned. 'She seems to, doesn't she?'

'Is she the reason he goes to Tirion every once in a while?'

'I suspect it to be so, yes.'

'When are _we_ going to Tirion again?'

'I do not know.' Ereinion replied. 'Perhaps you would better ask your father to take you, if you really wish to go.'

The boy looked at him.

With a quick jump, using some rocks, Elernil moved to the other side again, next to the other Elf.

'Is it because of your ada and daeradar that you do not wish to go anymore?' he asked, his voice soft. 

Ereinion was speechless for a moment, and stood very still. Then he slowly placed his hand on Elernil's shoulder and continued upon the path again. 

He was right. Perhaps his years were not many, but he definitely had his grandfather's insight. 

'How do you... What makes you say this?' the High Prince queried. 

Smiling weakly, Elernil looked up at him.

'I overheard you when he first arrived at the house, together with the Lord Finrod. And I know you were angry with your daeradar. You think I did not notice when we left Tirion, but I did.'

Slightly squeezing the boy's shoulder Ereinion nodded.

'You are much like your grandfather in that respect. You see things better than some... Though I doubt I hid it very well.'

'You did not,' Elernil answered. 'You never do.'

He couldn't help but laugh as he looked down at Elernil's serious face.

'Let us not speak of it,' he smiled, as he patted the boy on the back. 'Instead, why do we not think of how we can best build a bridge?'

'There,' Elernil pointed. 'The water attrition is least here. It would be the best place, unless we want to strengthen the bank every couple of years.'

Raising a pleased eyebrow, Ereinion smiled.

'You know of this?'

Elernil nodded proudly.

'I read some books on it when everyone was busy with the other waterway. It is interesting.'

'The problem is,' Ereinion called, as he sprang across the stream again, since high rock barred their ability to continue on this side, 'is that the watercourse is so changeable, making it difficult to keep to only one side. The mountain gets in the way, so to speak.' He pointed forward.

It indeed seemed they would have to cross the water again, only a little way further.

'How many bridges would we need?'

With a chuckle Ereinion shrugged.

'Better start with one, I suppose. In another fifty years the stream will have changed it's course, if only slightly. The embankment is not strong enough here to support any bridges. Too treacherous. Though we could try large stepping stones.'

Nodding enthusiastically, Elernil indicated a certain setting in the river.

'We'd have to secure them, make sure they do not move.' 

'A very good point.'

Broadly grinning, the boy looked up at Ereinion.

'When do we start?'

'Hmm, either we think of a way to bring wood across the larger waterway, or we use some from around here. We shall have to replace them, of course.'

'Of course.'

'How about next week?'

'Yes!' Elernil exclaimed. 'Do you think we could make a barrier somewhere, so we can make a small pool? And the bridge, we can easily...'

Ereinion listened to enthusiastic plans, suddenly recalling the many tree houses he had helped Elrond and Elros build in Lindon. He sighed. Well, he had helped them, even if only in a manner of speaking.

Deciding not to dwell on past lives too much now, he turned back to listening to his cousin, who had noticed nothing of his wandering mind this time.

--~~*~~--

The wind was almost cold and Aurehen pressed closer against Elladan, who received her in his arms gladly.

'You wish to stay?' she asked. 

He nodded silently. They sat in the dunes together, as the sun was setting far away, and the time when they would see what Elladan hoped to witness was approaching. Resting his head against hers Elladan tried to recall how often he had done this. 

The earliest recollection he could muster was watching together with his parents and brother, the next one with his father and later on, alone. And now with Aurehen. Some day, perchance, he would show his own children...

Then there was that well-known glimmer, high above and he smiled.

'Vingilot draws near,' he whispered. 

Catching his hands and holding them tightly, Aurehen nodded. She had met both Elwing and Eärendil not two days ago, though it had been only briefly. 

Suddenly, as if they were meant to see, in the red glow of the sunset, a bright light appeared, and it glittered in the shape of a white bird, soaring to meet that shining star.

Aurehen could only watch, not believing, though not doubting her eyes either. 

She had seen many things here on Aman, though her years were short in comparison to Elladan's, but never had she been treated on this sight, which was said only the far-sighted dwelling on the Lonely Isle sometimes witnessed. 

They looked on silently, until the brightness suddenly disappeared, and darkness took over the sky, the contrast quite abrupt. 

'You wish to return to your father's house again, do you not?' Aurehen asked him softly.

'Not just now,' Elladan smiled, leaning over her shoulder and turning her head so he could catch her lips with his own.

As she replied with a soft moan, it was not a moment later that she was lying on the sand, which was still warm from the sun that had shone directly on it the entire day, and Elladan looked down on her, his fingers teasing a little before they started unfastening her garments.

Closing her eyes, she gave in to him, returned caresses and kisses, knowing they both were home already, as long as they were together.

--~~*~~--

Ereinion rested his arm on the heap of pillows lying beside him on the bench. There had been too much pillows for his comfort, and he had set half of them aside, piling them up next to him. He was sitting on the balcony, his feet on the railing, a lantern lit, though he did not truly need it to aid him while reading. 

It was then that he heard the door to his rooms quietly open and close. Since the rooms were only scarcely lighted, Ereinion knew from experience that the brightness of the lamp would lead everyone to find him outside. And at this time of night, he did not worry about having to be a good host.

Waiting for the person to reveal him or herself, he rested the book he had been reading in his lap. 

Small fingers wrapped themselves around the doorpost, and Celebriníel looked at him timidly.

'I cannot find Ada and Nana.'

Ereinion knew Elrond and Celebrían had most likely sought some more private surroundings this evening. Three millennia and half a century was a long time to be married. Enough for him to allow them some privacy, even if it was no particular celebratory date according to Elvish custom. 

They would have expected the girl to sleep on, or find one of her brothers or their wives if there was a problem. Instead, she had come here. 

'Collect yourself something to keep you warm and sit with me then,' he smiled.

With a broad smile she ran back inside, returning swiftly with a blanket, and settling next to him on the comfortable bench before cuddling up.

'Do you know where they are?' she asked.

He shook his head apologetically. 

'I do not. But they have most likely gone out together. Why are you awake? Did you have a bad dream?'

She nodded and made him raise his arm so she could sit closer. Absently he stroked her hair.

'What are you reading?' she queried, looking at the book that still lay open.

'The Noldolantë,' he replied, closing the volume with one hand. 'Perhaps you are too young to know of it.'

'What is it about?' Celebriníel asked, more curious because her cousin evidently did not wish her to read whatever it was. 'Is it scary?'

He laughed, the reverberation of it easily reaching down into the gardens.

'Not scary as such... Sad, yes, and perhaps daunting, considering what it was written for.'

'Does it not mean _Fall of the Noldor_?' she said, trying to make his fingers release the now-wanted collection on knowledge. 'Why? Are we not Noldor? We have not fallen.'

Not having to use much of his force to keep the small fingers from achieving their objective, he looked at Celebriníel.

'You know of the Kinslaying?'

'Heard of it,' she replied. 'I am not certain I understood what it was when Ada spoke of it.'

Ereinion nodded.

'Sometimes, even I cannot be certain about understanding. It is a curious thing that happened.'

'Are you reading about it to understand?'

He smiled and shook his head.

'This is a lament of the first Kinslaying at Alqualondë... This is perhaps the most important account ever written about it.'

'Why?'

'Because it was one of those who were held mainly responsible that wrote it.'

'What was his name? Or was it a she?'

'His name was...' he started, only to quickly return upon his own words. '..._is_ Maglor.'

'Do you know him?'

Swallowing he looked at the young girl.

'I knew him.'

'But you say he is alive? Then you _know_ him.'

'I _used_ to know him.'

Celebriníel seemed confused, but Ereinion watched her let it go. Apparently there were more important things on her mind than his confusing verb tenses. More important than a reincarnated Elf-lord and the whereabouts of her own father's first foster father. 

'But what did he do?' she persisted.

'When he followed his father, together with his brothers, they... Kinslaying means an Elf killing an Elf.'

'Killing?' she asked, not understanding.

'Hurting.'

'Why?'

'They wanted the ships that lay at Alqualondë.'

She fingered the edging of his tunic. 

'Then why did they not give those to them?'

'I really do not know, Briníel.'

How much truth lay in that? He had never brought it up with either his father or his grandfather, never tried to discover the real truth about the matter. Perhaps he did not wish to understand. Perhaps the Noldolantë was enough. 

She looked at him, her eyes clear as a summer sky.

'If you find out by reading that book, please tell me.'

He merely nodded, having lost his voice for a moment.

Resting her head against his side, she pulled up the blanket.

'Are you comfortable?' He could not imagine she was.

'Hmhmm...' she replied.

With a sigh Ereinion pinched her nose.

'You are not.' Then he easily lifted her and placed her among the pillows he had set aside before. 'Put your feet up,' he told her.

With a grin she rested her bare feet on his legs.

'There you go,' he chuckled, tucking the sides of the blanket in, before leaning forward and dimming the light. 'Now I shall show you why I was really out here tonight.'

He pointed up at the sky. 'Keep watching.'

From the west, suddenly a bright light emerged and drew a bright blue-white trace in the night sky. Then it was gone.

'What was that?' Celebriníel asked in amazement.

'They call them the "tears of Nienna",' he answered. 'Because she cries for the Trees still, and always in this season.'

'Pretty,' the girl said, raising her hand as if she could touch the nightly apparitions. 

Ereinion let her be. Was he to tell her that the story was most likely not true? That Elrond's theory was that they were actually rocks? He smiled. He had witnessed such displays often, during his travelling in Middle-earth, in all kinds of seasons. So, in the end, the rocks seemed more plausible. And not even Nienna wept _that_ much. 

Elrond looked up at the balcony, the light of the lantern making the two faces higher up clearly distinguishable. 

'El-nîn...' Celebrían caught his hand, and smiled. 'They will be fine.'

He nodded slowly, eyes still lingering. 

'Perhaps I should go and check on them,' he said. 

'She will take good care of Ereinion,' the Elf-lady assured him, entwining her fingers with his.

The light above dimmed and as Ereinion pointed up, both the Lord and Lady of the House gazed skywards. 

Placing an arm around Celebrían's waist, Elrond smiled before pressing his lips against her temple. Another falling light emerged from the dark, before it disappeared again. 

Together they walked back into the protective semi-darkness of the gardens. 

'I shall miss him, once he returns to Tirion. And the years he shall remain here grow fewer ever,' Elrond said softly.

Celebrían smiled.

'I have a feeling Ereinion shall never stay away too long, once he has gone. Though he will grow to love Tirion greatly.'

She watched her husband smile.

'I do not doubt you see correctly, lady.'

Halting, he looked long upon her, before slowly lowering his face, bestowing a kiss upon her lips.

'Has it been nearly an Age, _herven_? An Age of being bonded?' she whispered to him.

'Well, I think we can say it has been approximately, _hervess_,' he replied, stroking his cheek against hers. 'Curious, is it not?'

'It is indeed,' Celebrían whispered huskily. 'One would have expected I had grown tired of you long ago.'

Pulling back, Elrond gave her an indignant look, but before he could speak, he found himself caught up in a heated open-mouthed kiss, the offer of an embrace he was glad to give in to. 

Quite early in their marriage, they had spend many nights awake and outside, sometimes in the company of others, involving themselves in the ancient storytelling and singing of their people, more often alone, merely star-gazing, or initiating the occasional more private goings-on, much like those they were about to engage in. 

Leading Celebrían to one of the stone garden seats, Elrond was glad he was not wearing the regal robes that had been his customary attire in Middle-earth.

With an elegant movement he stepped across the seat with one leg and sat down, smiling up at Celebrían. There were no arm or backrests, but the Lord of the House considered that an advantage at this moment. Pulling her hand, Elrond dared his wife to come closer, and with a twinkle in her eyes she gathered up her dresses a little before sitting down and motioning him to near, which he did without wavering.

As she wrapped her legs around his waist, he embraced her, lifting her slightly as he searched for her lips and finally found them again. 

Celebrían combed her fingers through his hair, not thinking, just reacting on him as he reacted on her.

Both their breathing was becoming more ragged, but neither seemed willing to withdraw for air. Meanwhile fingers began slipping beneath layers of clothing, to find flesh so familiar there was really no need for eyes. 

_Did I ever tell you I would have rather surrendered my life than lose you?_

Her blue eyes flew open as he spoke the words silently, and met his grey ones, dark with desire, but also showing that perpetual love that was spoken so highly of in Elven history. 

Without a word she embraced him firmer, completing the union of body and mind.

Elrond closed his eyes again, taking delight in it. Then suddenly she replied.

_It were those words that gave me the strength... Making me realise, I would do the same..._

'I love you,' he whispered, pressing her closer. 

'And I you,' Celebrían replied softly, smiling at him, before renewing their merging of lips.

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Noldolantë: a poem Maglor wrote ("Fall of the Noldor") as a lament of the Kinslaying at Alqualonde.

Kinslaying: The first slaying of Elf by Elf, in which the followers of Fëanor assaulted the Teleri in their haven of Alqualondë as they marched from Valinor.

Alqualondë: The Swanhaven of the Teleri, on the eastern shores of Aman. This was the site of the Kinslaying in the time immediately before the beginning of the First Age.   
tears of Nienna: falling stars, or a meteor-rain, most likely

Nienna: one of the Valar, Lady of tears ("she who weeps")

herven: (S) husband

hervess: (S) wife

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I cannot say how soon I will be able to update again, university is calling me.   
But I'm not going anywhere, really. And trains are good to write in. ;)) *wavels to everyone*


	11. New Beginnings

**:)High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: *hands chocolate elfies and cookies*

**Artanis**: I think Ereinion is sort of the youngest (and he's a big kid in a way, I guess ;)) And Gofi, well, that one's for you, once it gets off the ground...

**kalurien**: *munches cupcake* I'll write you a nice El&Brí sometime (neatly rated "R" of course. ;))****

**Woman of the Dunedain**: We'll see if I'm brave enough to do more with Maglor sometime... 

**ShinElrond**: no falling in love with Ereinion! But uhm, well, since it's you... ;)

**morchaint**: *hands elfie* 

**Loquacious**: Thanks! I don't think I could stop writing if I wanted to though... ;)

**Anon E. Mus**: I shall do my best :)

**Finch**: He might, you know... He just might... 

**Fiona Rayne**: *pets the hunch monster*

**Mouse**: glad you liked :)

**Elarin**: I'm not saying anything...

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**Chapter Ten    New Beginnings**

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'Well, your escort to Tirion looks... wet.' Glorfindel remarked as he observed the stables from above. He had only recently made the journey from the City back to the House of Elrond himself, but that had been before the weather had changed so drastically. 

Ereinion rose from his chair and joined the other Elf at the window.

They both chuckled for a moment.

'I do hope this weather will not last beyond nightfall,' Glorfindel continued.

'Indeed. My entrance would be too muddy to be easily forgotten,' the High Prince replied. 

The golden-haired Elf-lord looked at him.

'Ereinion the muddy.'

Narrowing his eyes, which never lost a certain amused glimmer, Ereinion observed him.

'Continue and I shall make sure you receive a fitting epessë as well.'

'Such as?'

'Do not underestimate the imagination of a politician.'

'I am trembling in fear.'

'Well, you would be.'

'Oh be quiet.'

--~~*~~--

Elrohir removed his hood as he ascended the flight of stairs, finding Mîrlinde waiting at the top.

'Welcome back,' she smiled, as her husband bent forward to kiss her carefully. 

'Hennaid, hiril,' he smiled.

'Your entire journey was wet?'  she asked, already very well aware of the answer.

'We rode out in rain, yes. I doubt it shall abate before morning,' he replied, meanwhile allowing himself to be helped out of his wet cloak. 'My brother has not yet returned from visiting the Gardens of Lórien?'

Taking his arm, Mîrlinde smiled.

'He indeed has not. Possibly he is wise enough to wait until the weather brightens. And now, methinks a warm bath will do you good.'

With a grin, Elrohir looked upon her.

'Ah, do join me, meleth-nîn?'

'Perhaps,' she said, trying to keep from laughing. 'Are there no messages from Tirion that need to be delivered?'

'Well, I am not Ereinion's messenger-boy.' Elrohir answered, a broad grin teasing around his lips. 'Elernil is.'

--~~*~~--

The boy's eyes were dark as he stood in the library, every inch of his outer apparel drenched. 

Observing him, Glorfindel could not help laughing. 

'Did you fall into the river?' Ereinion asked incredulously, though there was a certain amount of amusement to be distinguished from his voice as well. 

'You would think so,' Elernil replied, lifting an arm and watching the water run off, resulting in a puddle on the stone floor. 'I am cold.'

'Are these messages so important then, that you are not allowed to change beforehand?' Ereinion asked, pouring a glass of wine.

Elernil shrugged.

'Ada said they were likely mere congratulations, but to bring them to you immediately nevertheless.'

Ereinion motioned him to sit down and handed him the glass.

'Don't drink too fast, or you grandmother shall not allow me to ever return to this house.' he warned mildly. 

Obediently, Elernil sipped the red liquid. 

Glorfindel nodded.

'I shall find you something to dry yourself with.'

Leaning against the table, Ereinion began skimming through the messages, and smiled.

'Glorfindel is getting too fatherly.'

'Am not!' came a reply from somewhere down the hall.

Elernil smiled and tasted the wine again. He grimaced when Ereinion looked at him.

'It is sour.'

'You do not like it?'

'I am not certain.'

'It took me quite some getting used to, when I was your age... Perhaps I was older. Next time we shall find you a draught somewhat sweeter in taste.'

Biting his lip, he stared at one of the letters.

'Do these come to my grandfather's Halls? Or were they handed to you personally?'

'Actually,' Elernil said, setting down the glass and rising so he could easier see which message the High Prince was speaking of, 'These were sent to the Halls where you shall be living in Tirion.'

Raising an eyebrow, Ereinion looked at him.

'You are relentlessly teasing me?'

'I am not,' came the simple reply. 

'And where are these Halls? Or, more importantly, whose bright idea was it to give me Halls? Ah, do not tell me, I think one guess would suffice...' He sighed deeply and stared at Elernil for a moment. The young Elf smiled.

'The building is situated in the west of the City, since that, supposedly, shall be the part of Tirion that will be placed under your care. The architecture is quite stunning.'

'I am certain it would be,' Ereinion replied, sitting down before looking up at Elernil. 'No way of knowing who delivered it then?'

Looking smug, the boy smiled.

'I believe the message was brought by one of the Lords in the service of that House. I am sure my father would be able to tell you.'

'Not personal then?'

'It is rare messages are brought personally.' Elernil looked at the letter again. 'What is so important about it that you enquire so deeply into its delivery?'

'Forget I asked, it matters little.'

Glorfindel entered and handed some towels to Elernil. Ereinion, meanwhile placed the letter within his tunic and rose with a smile.

'Get yourself dry clothes Elernil.'

With those words, he departed the library, leaving Glorfindel and Elernil to stare after him, somewhat surprised.

'What ails him?' Glorfindel asked.

'I know not,' Elernil answered, removing his cloak and attempting to dry his hair. 'It had something to do with a letter. He said it was nothing.'

'"Nothing" is a curious thing when it concerns Ereinion. His nothings are usually very interesting nothings.'

--~~*~~--

'So, how is Tirion reacting on the imminent arrival of it's new High Prince?' Mîrlinde asked, as she washed her husband's back.

'There are already voices going up in the Council that Ereinion is too young. They conveniently forget he has dwelt within the bounds of Arda longer than most of them.' Elrohir, leaning forward, seemed to be quite worked up about it. His wife smiled and pulled him back against her.

'Elrohir?'

'Yes?'

'Do not fret.'

He sighed and caught one of her hands to place a kiss upon it. 

'They treat him as if he were a child... Merely because he is one of the youngest members of the Council.'

'If I know Ereinion,' Mîrlinde spoke softly, caressing her husband's hair. 'He shall walk in there, do one of those eloquent speeches he is so good at, and win them all over before anyone has had the time to object.'

'Perhaps.'

'I consider it a certain thing. But do not speak of the Council. The City, how do the people react?'

Smiling, Elrohir seemed to unwind. 

'Perchance it is because he is the youngest, and they have seen him grow up not that many years ago, rather then anything else. In any case, most are very pleased with the fact that the elfling is returning. He is held in high regard.'

'Also because he seems less serious than his father and grandfather, I deem.'

'It might even be the main reason. And he has always been among the citizens more. He knows what lives among society, not just inside the Council. And his refusal to join it before has done well.'

With a content groan he turned and kissed Mîrlinde. 

'And now we shall not speak any longer of this, for we shall be leaving tomorrow, and we do not have that much time.'

Giggling, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer.

'Agreed, my Lord.'

--~~*~~--

'Ada?' 

Elrond looked up from his occupation and smiled at his daughter.

'Celebriníel?'

She returned his smile, then shook her head.

'Never mind.'

For a short moment, Celebrían turned and, as their gazes met, gave her husband a small smile. Elrond returned to the braiding of his wife's hair as he spoke to the small girl seated beside them on the bed. 

'Never mind, little one?'

'Yes.' Celebriníel replied, busying herself with a book containing songs.

'This is not a good thing to say to your father,_ meluihên,_' Celebrían said, reaching out and pulling her daughter's silver tresses a little. 'He shall keep asking until he has found out what it was you wished to say.'

Elrond grinned and pressed a kiss against Celebrían's neck.

'Your mother speaks from experience.'

Celebriníel closed the book and climbed onto her mother's lap.

'I just wish the rain would stop.'

'It will stop, Briníel, I am certain it will be dry tomorrow,' Elrond answered, as his fingers worked on a last intricate weaving of silver. No fastenings were needed, and he ran his fingers through the looser strands of hair at the back of Celebrían's head. 

'Can you braid my hair too, Ada?'

Chuckling, Elrond sat back.

'You would manage to pull them out in a matter of hours.'

'Would not.'

Tempted as he found himself to engage into this argument with his daughter, he did not.

'Very well then, come.'

Celebrían smiled and left them for a moment, only to find both her husband and daughter softly singing upon her return. Not a moment later Elrond was off the bed, lifting Celebriníel and setting her down on the floor, some practical braids at the side of her head, apparently enough to please the girl. With a broad smile he caught Celebrían's hand, and kissed her, before leaving the rooms. 

Amused, she looked at Celebriníel, who seemed caught up fingering the braids. 

'If you remove them, your father will not be too pleased.'

Smiling, Celebriníel looked up.

'Ada is a bit sad with Ereinion leaving.'

'I think everyone shall miss Ereinion.'

Nodding Celebriníel suddenly seemed to realise something. Then she ran off, leaving her mother as amused as before.

'Her father's daughter indeed.'

--~~*~~--

'Ereinion!' she called, pushing the door open. 

The High Prince seemed to be busy packing some last things. 

'Ah, it is the little troublemaker,' he smiled, looking up at his visitor. 'And what is it she desires of me now?'

'Just to tell you that you must come back soon, and often,' she said airily, while jumping onto the bed. 'Ada braided my hair.'

'And a very good job he did, if they are still present,' Ereinion replied seriously. 'And I promise will come back as often as I can be spared.'

'Good.'

'You know Elrohir and Elernil have returned a while ago?'

'Yes, but Elrohir is with Mîrlinde and Elernil is wet. Did you get letters?'

'Indeed I did,' he replied, suspiciously. 'Why do you ask?'

Celebriníel shrugged. 

'Glorfindel said you did.'

'It was all he said?'

'No. Also something about your nothings being interesting...' she narrowed her brow for a moment before looking up at him. 'I am not certain what he meant.'

Ereinion nodded.

'Glorfindel tends to be like that. He always has been rather fond of acting mysteriously.'

'I suppose... Now who sent you letters?'

Chuckling he picked up the leather bag he had been packing and set it down near the door.

'Does anyone ever tell you, Celebriníel, that you are very inquisitive? And very persistent.' 

'All the time, though Ada calls it nosy... ' she giggled, dropping onto the bed. 

'Bored, are you?'

She nodded.

'I wish the rain would stop.'

He looked at her mischievously.

'Rain does not mean you cannot go outside.'

She rose, her eyes large and enquiring. 

'If you go, no one could say I could not.'

Reaching out to her with his hand, Ereinion smiled.

'Come on then, but if your braids are beyond saving, I shall not take the blame.'

Together they left the rooms and not much later, could be found in the gardens, loudly calling to each other from opposite parts of the garden, trying to splash through as many puddles of water that could possibly be located. 

Those in the house that heard them, shut their eyes with a smile on this occasion.

--~~*~~--

The sound of thunder was not as obvious as it had been, and the rain had steadied somewhat from the downpour of before.

He could sense it, as he sat in the window, straying drops falling on his hands and on the pages of the book that lay open on his knee.

Then a flash of bright light, and the rain once more increased. He tried to determine whether it was truly raining harder, or just a whim of the wind. From there, he contemplated retreating further, in an attempt to flee the drops, which now began to leave small spots on his pages. 

But he did not. The wind toyed with some loose strands of hair, and he breathed in, the smell of water and all it wetted prominent. 

The rain would make the road wet in the morning, which was perhaps not a good thing, he thought.

And yet, the falling of raindrops, the mere sound of them hitting inanimate objects, soothed him. And he needed to be soothed now.

He was tired, he decided finally. Tired in a peaceful way. Most likely it had been the hot bath he had taken, after the wet adventures of this afternoon.

With a last deep intake of breath, he closed the book and retreated. 

Slipping between the covers, he watched it, both the rain and the lightning, for a long time, lying on his side, his head comfortably resting against a pillow, his arm underneath it.

How nice would it be if an arm would simply rest around him now?

With a smile he turned onto his back. 

'Don't be daft, Ereinion,' he whispered, clearing his mind. 

Still, it took a long time before he finally fell asleep. 

--~~*~~--

'You know, at present, you think this is a change for you alone. But it is a change for us also.'

Ereinion looked up at Elrond, who walked beside him as they made their way through the garden, on their way to the stables. The sun had broken not long ago, and it had been deemed a good time to leave for Tirion. 

'This is your approach to telling me you shall miss me around the house?'

'I suspect so,' Elrond smiled. 

Nodding, placing his hands behind his back, Ereinion smiled as well.

'You can always visit, you know. Just two hours away.'

'Ah, yes.'

'You two look as if one of you is planning to leave for the outer rim of the world, never to return.'

Celebrían took both their arms, receiving a raised eyebrow from two Elf-lords at once. She smiled. 'Well, you do.'

'Not intentional, Celebrían, I assure you,' Ereinion returned, more serious than normal. 

'You shall be missed, Ereinion, but I expect you shall visit often,' the Elf-lady replied, softly squeezing his arm.

A modest smile appeared around his lips.

'I promised your daughter that I would, as often as possible.'

'And what Celebriníel is promised, she undoubtedly gets,' Elrond said, gazing into the distance. 'No doubt we shall attend your installation into the High Council.' He looked at Ereinion and smiled. 

'Ah yes, the official ceremony to inform everyone I am in bonds until the end of Arda.' Ereinion said, rolling his eyes with a grimace. 

'Do not be like that,' Celebrían smiled. 'I predict you shall enjoy it more than you will ever dare to admit.'

Trying hard to keep his face serious, Ereinion bent his head. Elrond was already laughing.

'She is right, and you are well aware of it.'

'We shall see.'

Arriving at the stables, most of the party was already there.

Besides Elrohir and Elernil, Glorfindel too, would be riding with them to Tirion. Though no one brought it up, everyone was well aware of the reason. The Lady Anariel would certainly enjoy his visit. 

Ereinion smiled at Mîrlinde.

'I do apologise... I am taking them away from you again.'

She returned his smile forgivingly. 

'Elrohir and I spoke of whether I would consider coming to Tirion as well. Perhaps I shall,' she looked up. 'When the weather clears.'

'Good idea,' the High Prince smiled, bowing his head shortly. 'And Tirion would welcome you with open arms.'

With a grin on his face, and slipping on his gloves, he went on to Erestor.

'You still do not wish to join us?' he asked.

The dark-haired Elf-lord smiled.

'There is no reason for me to go to Tirion now. If you ever achieve to get Elrond there,' Erestor nodded, before he continued, 'I shall think upon it. Until then, I wish you good luck, my Lord.'

They caught lower arms for a moment, before Ereinion turned to the youngest member of the house.

Lifting her, he smiled.

'Visit me?'

Celebriníel slowly nodded, trying to keep her face from showing how close she was to crying.

'But you promise to come back and visit too?'

'I do. I'll try,' he said, stroking her cheek. Her lower lip trembled. He smiled encouragingly. 'I promise, do not worry.'

Throwing her arms around his neck, she buried her face against his shoulder. 

Slightly uncomfortable, he patted her on the back.

'Do not cry, _meluihên_, there is no need, truly.'

As she looked up, her eyes slightly wet, she kissed him on the cheek.

'Write as well?'

'Yes, of course.'

Pressing his lips against her forehead, he then lowered her and embraced Celebrían. 

'Take good care of them all,' he whispered, and felt her nod. As they withdrew, she smiled.

'You take care of yourself, Ereinion Gil-galad.'

He stared at her for a moment, then caught her hand, shaking it as he nodded.

Catching Elrond's arms, they both laughingly pulled each other into a close hold. 

'Have we come full circle now?' Ereinion asked him quietly.

Elrond smiled broadly.

'If this is the case, does that mean that in another eighty years, I shall be forced to come to Tirion as well?'

'Perhaps it does, master Peredhil,' Ereinion grinned, patting the other on the back. 

Then he turned and nodded at the others.

'Ready?'

There came a collective affirmative reply, and mounting, a last goodbye was called to the remaining Elves.

Then the group rode off, into the direction of the main road, which would lead them to that city which was built, long ago, on the hill of Túna. 

--~~*~~--

It was as they entered Tirion, with its white walls and terraces, that Glorfindel took leave of his fellow travellers. With a smile they bade him farewell, and as he rode south, the others continued on their way. 

Having entered the City from the west, their destination lay in the west as well, and the journey would come to an end soon. 

The weather had stayed reasonably well, and even though _Anar_ had never been able to fight its way through the clouds overhead, neither had rain fallen from that same sky. 

At the stables, the hands were ready to take over their horses, and Ereinion was first to dismount, first to ascend the stairs and enter the building. 

He walked into the empty Halls, softly pulling off his riding gloves by the fingertips. 

Standing there alone for a while, he tried to let it sink in.

Then he turned around a little, slapping his gloves against the palm of his hand, the sound echoing against the walls and ceiling. 

'Well, I would not have predicted it, but here I am.'

From outside he could hear voices, and the sound of others, being greeted by his companions. 

Somewhere he could distinguish Elrohir laughing, and he nodded to himself, before joining them.

_The end of a journey also means the beginning of one..._

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

epessë: aftername 

Hennaid, hiril: Thank you, wife

meleth-nîn: my love

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	12. Old Acquaintances

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: 

**ShinElrond**: I can see the dilemma indeed! :D (I'll forgive you, because, well, it's you and all...)

**kalurien**: *gives extra chocolate elfies and cookies and stuff*

**Loquacious**: Updating once a week seems to work at the moment. :)

**Anon E. Mus**: I'm beginning to fear this will indeed go on forever... :)))

**morchaint**: Me? Planning something? *looks innocent*

**Lady Harlequin**: *pats* I would have gotten there a lot sooner had the elfies not taken over the story... It's out of my hands... ;)))

**Finch**: Council business will come up, I think in the following chapter or the one after. (and not you too with the Hunch Monster?) little other note: Hope everything's all right!

**Danielle**: *gives chocolate elfies for you and any High Kings you might have chained to the desk*

**Artanis**: I think if you love your characters, it tends to shine through in writing. And well, I love them all... :D

**Fiona Rayne**: *gives cookies for the Hunch Monster* I suppose it will turn a bit more serious. They are making me do it, you know.

**LoveChilde**: *pats* He isn't simpering anymore. If you won't tell, no one knows I ever wrote that. ;)

**Spirit Star**: I like that one... :3

**Desideria**: Ah, but Ereinion is like a brother to Celebriníel *coughs*

**Elarin**: *looks innocent again* *gives extra chocolate elfies*

**shana**: *bows* Thank you!

**Gwilwileth**: *pats* Be patient now... :P

**Emmica**: *gives you a little present* Would I simply send my little Ereinion away? Just like that? *pokes back*

**Earelen**: Glad you're enjoying! I'm not sure if it will be political scheming as much as loads of important elfies trying to persuade each other of their opinions though . ;))

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Eleven    Old Acquaintances **

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

The Elf-lord handed his horse to a stable-hand, but did not subsequently do what was expected; enter the house to announce his arrival.

Instead, he entered the gardens, taking off his gloves and loosening his cloak, before finding a peaceful place on a bench, watching an elegant waterfall do what it was intended to. 

He nevertheless did not have to sit alone long. 

'It is not often I find such an important guest unannounced in the gardens, my Lord,' came a voice from behind, 'Yet this does not mean I do not appreciate it.'

Glorfindel rose with a swift smile and reached for Anariel's hand.

'I could start my apology by uttering some nonsensical words on how I enjoy being in your gardens, my Lady, but I fear they would not do me much good. Rather I would sound like some foolish elfling, falling over his own words, aided by a romantically inclined tongue.'

She laughed and nodded, gripping his hand a little.

'Perhaps.'

There were voices that seemed to reach them from the open doors of the house, and Glorfindel looked enquiringly at Anariel.

'You have guests?'

Rolling her eyes, Anariel nodded. 

'Aye, my father does, some Lord he met in Fingolfin's Halls. Perchance you know him as well, he is called Malthon.'

Nodding thoughtfully, the golden-haired Elf-lord offered his arm.

'Indeed, if I recall correctly, the Lord Malthon was one of the members of a rather disastrous adventure, involving my Lords Gil-galad and Elrond in Middle-earth.'

Anariel smiled.

'I have not heard that particular tale, but I have come to understand Malthon and Gil-galad were quite close in their younger years. Though this does not seem to be the case any longer where it concerns Ereinion and Malthon here on Aman.'

She gazed up at him inquiringly. 

'This could be explained in many ways,' Glorfindel spoke, standing still for a moment, looking at her. 'For one, Ereinion, as much as he does resemble his former self, is not quite the same as he was. A very simple and silly example, he used to love sugared fruits in Middle-earth, whereas now, he seems to loathe them. Though he tries to tell everyone who wishes to listen, he only _pretended_ to like them in Middle-earth, there can be little doubt his likes and dislikes have changed.'

Nodding, Anariel indicated they should continue walking, while meanwhile carrying on with the conversation. 

'And yet, he is still as close to Elrond as he was before, or am I mistaken?'

'Mistaken only in the notion that they appear to be even closer now, then they were,' Glorfindel replied with a grin. 'But if I recall accurately, and I must remind you I cannot be entirely certain of it, Malthon and Gil-galad did not part on the best of terms.'

'How do you mean?'

He seemed to consider formulating his answer for a moment.

'It is no coincidence the endeavour I just mentioned is rarely spoken of. The High King was never proud of it, too many lives were lost during it. And I do not believe there was a single member coming out of that forest unscathed.'

'Ereinion was hurt?'

Glorfindel nodded, somehow more clearly confronted with the memory then he ever had been since it occurred.

'An arrow knocked him clear out of the saddle, so I was told.'

'And Malthon?'

'Also an arrow, I believe.'

'And where were you, during all this?'

'Searching,' Glorfindel smirked. 'And we did find them.'

Anariel smiled along.

'So it was because of the arrow that they were unfriends?'

He frowned as he looked at her.

'Not exactly...' he said, looking away. 'I will venture to say that, long ago, there was a great love between the Lady Alian and Ereinion Gil-galad when he still resided on Balar during the First Age. I know very little of it further, but it suffices to say it caused some harsh words to be said between the three of them, later on, when it became known Malthon and Alian had married at the end of the First Age. But I did not witness any myself, so again, I cannot be certain. I doubt even Elrond knows the depth of it, though he witnessed them speaking many times.'

Looking at him intently, Anariel lay her hand on his arm for a moment, halting him.

'This would explain some things, you know.'

'It would?'

She nodded seriously, and went on in a whisper.

'I only know this because my father was there when the news of Gil-galad's demise came to the Blessed Realm.'

Glorfindel looked at her attentively.

'What occurred?'

'It seems that then, as much as they are now, both the Lord Malthon as well as Lady Alian were close to the House of Fingolfin. And they were present when the news arrived. Upon hearing of Gil-galad's passing to Mandos, the Lady turned quite still. Now, my father said there were many that did, which was the reason it was not noticed. Then she left, and when my father first saw her again, she had cut off her hair, and remained dressed in dark and near-silence for many years.'

Somewhat taken aback, Glorfindel looked at her.

'This is not common knowledge, I deem?'

'Because it supports the rumour Alian still loves Ereinion, Fingolfin seems to prefer to keep it quiet. But the fact that I can tell you this, means that in certain circles, people are well aware of it. Then again, all of Aman was in mourning the day that news arrived. I doubt many were observant enough to notice it, before they went on with their lives.' 

'Would you know whether they have spoken, Alian and Ereinion?'

Anariel shook her head.

'When he was still often in Tirion, before Elrond returned, I never was under the impression Ereinion talked to any lady much. I suppose they attended gatherings where they could have met.'

'Are they going to the ceremony?'

'Yes,' she nodded. 'I believe they are. And you?'

'I have indeed arrived here with Elrond and his household to witness Ereinion's installation into the Council.'

Looking up at him, she caught his hand.

'I hoped you would.'

--~~*~~--

Ereinion stood near the window, staring outside. After a moment he lifted his hand and tapped the glass. Then he rested his hand against it, cool against his palm. 

For a year he had been in Tirion, had unofficially attended councils, both those of his father and grandfather as well as the occasional High Council.

But today was the definite end of it. Or rather the beginning. 

If leaving Imloth and the House of Elrond had been the end of his youth, this day was the official beginning of his professional life. 

If this was true, what had his past year been? Some sort of static year? What had it meant, besides being a year of learning? 

He was uncertain.

And yet, already, the outside world seemed strange to him. 

Was it because he was one of many now? At least one of the three? 

He thought of Elernil, sitting in his office, talking.

Speaking of the journeys back and forth to Imloth, about time spent with Elrond, work he had done on the small waterway.

Hearing the young man mentioning it alone made Ereinion realise he missed it already. 

And just moments ago, Elrond had been here, together with Celebrían and Celebriníel. 

They were happy.

In a way, he knew he was not unhappy, here in Tirion.

But what they had...

Celebriníel was growing up, quite a little lady now.

Would there come a time when he himself would be able to observe a child of his own with the same proud look as Elrond had when watching his daughter?

A knock on the door was followed by Elrohir's entrance

'All is ready if you are.'

Ereinion nodded towards the window, then turned. 

'I am ready.'

--~~*~~--

The ceremony was held in Quenya, as all formal procedures held in the Council Halls were. 

Elrond was once more confronted with the fact Ereinion resembled his former form almost too much for comfort, especially now, dressed in those dark blue and silver garments, his face almost expressionless. 

Celebrían, standing beside him softly squeezed his hand and he smiled.

_I am fine._

_Of course you are._

Solemn words were spoken, and he watched Ereinion's lips move, and though he could not precisely distinguish the words, Elrond was aware of them nevertheless. 

As serious as Ereinion seemed now, the more jesting had he been before, when in private rooms surrounded by close friends. He had played with Celebriníel, joked with Elernil, and had generally seemed as if he were about to engage in something he did daily.

How had he called it before leaving Imloth? The official ceremony to notify one and all he would be in bonds until the end of Arda...

They had not had time to speak, not privately in any case.

And still, somehow Elrond suspected that now, more than ever, Ereinion was saying goodbye to his youth, to a time in which he could jest and be irresponsible. 

As if in some way, he was only now truly coming of age.

--~~*~~--

As they stood together, Fingolfin, Fingon and Ereinion, the youngest High Prince almost could not help but laugh. No doubt they looked increasingly silly, all dressed the same, all alike, but not entirely, and none of them completely comfortable being here. 

Although Fingolfin seemed at ease enough. 

Perhaps he needed to feel light-hearted about this. A way to cope with this new situation. 

He considered going over to Elrond, when suddenly his eyes rested on a face too familiar for comfort.

Expressionlessly, he nodded at the Elf-lord, who replied with a courteous but cold bow of the head.  

Turning to his father he smiled weakly.

'I shall take a moment of respite, please excuse me.'

Fingon nodded, though frowning a little as he watched his son stride off.

Ereinion walked unseeing, bringing his hand to his forehead as soon as he reached a corridor, where there was not an entire hall of people observing his every move.

_Were you ever as uncomfortable with that before? _he wondered absently.

He halted as a person blocked his way momentarily, looking up to smile and wait until the path was free once more.

A sharp jab of pain shot through his shoulder. 

Then, for a moment, he found himself in a tent, and he heard someone who sounded scarily much like himself.

"_I love thee, I have, and I shall… But I will not speak of it ever again..._"

As soon as the final word was spoken he returned to the present again, having to work hard to keep his balance.

A hand rested on his arm and helped him, even if only slightly.

'We meet again, my Lord.'

'Indeed... I...' He placed his feet further apart to keep himself steady. 'Perhaps I need a moment...'

Guiding him through the door, the hand turned into an arm, and before he knew it, he was seated, and his head slowly began to spin less rapid.

'Are you all right?'

The first image that did not blur was her face, grey eyes, a little worried, looking down upon him. 

'I...' he started, before nodding. 'It was only... It was a mere moment's lapse... Nerves. I am fine.'

He was not fine, Alian decided. And most likely it was she who had made him feel thusly.

It had not been planned, this. She could have planned it better, if it had been so.

Determined not to let his proximity get to her, she walked around the table to collect him a glass of water, perhaps lingering too long with the pewter in her hand, and her back towards him.

Returning, he looked at her, just as he had when they had first met in Sirion. Long before marriage, long before all those words said in anger, long before death. 

'I wish to thank you again for the letter,' he said, taking the glass with a short bow of the head.

For a moment, she did not understand, then remembered the dispatch she had sent with her congratulations and some polite inquiries into his well-being. It had seemed almost standard, and yet she had agonised over nearly every word. It had not been standard, of course. If it had been, her husband's signature would have been on it. That had been clearly lacking.

There had been a formal reply, one not expediently inviting further correspondence. One side of her had been content with that, the other sorely disappointed. 

'It was nothing.'

'Well, it was much appreciated,' he replied. How many of those words indicated exactly how deep the appreciation went? 

_None, and that was precisely your point_, he answered himself. 

'Still, you must have received many such correspondence, my Lord,' she smiled. 

He looked at his feet, folding his hands as a way to busy his hands.

'Yes.'

Both of them were aware how rapidly this situation was becoming uncomfortable. 

Alian suddenly nodded.

'Methinks you were looking for some solitude, I shall no longer keep you from it.'

She had not expected him to rise after she had spoken the words. But that he did before looking at her.

'I did much enjoy your company just now,' he said slowly, his eyes sincere. 'Perhaps there shall be a moment when we can both speak more.'

Not able to keep herself from smiling, she watched him for a moment. Different, but the same, he was. 

And then she stepped closer, and very gently, pressed her lips against his.

Both of them noticed the voices too late, and there was no knock, no announcement of entrance.

As Elladan came in, he saw and stepped back again, and even before Ereinion could have ended the kiss, or cast back an explaining glance, the door was closed again.

For a moment, he was unable to move, but then swiftly withdrew.

He met Alian's gaze, and she bowed her head courteously, indicating her imminent departure. 

'Do not play games that go to far, lady,' he said softly, shortly catching her hand. Then he averted his gaze, and walked over to the window without another word, keeping his back towards her. 

A moment later he heard the door open and close once more. 

Uncertain how he felt, Ereinion sat down in the window seat, resting his head against the cool stone of the wall. 

'For once in this life, I would be much amused knowing what I truly feel,' he whispered. 

Was there to come a time when he could be certain of his feelings? Any feelings?

For even now, well into maturity, he could not yet be certain a page from a book would not distress him.

He breathed deeply. 

_And Elladan..._

'You have a way of making complicated matters just that little bit more complex.' He sighed.

--~~*~~--

'You did not find him?' Elrond asked, looking at his son enquiringly. Elladan had been late arriving in Tirion, as had Celeborn. The weather had not been very good causing them to miss the ceremony and most of the subsequent reception. 

His son had gone to relay his apologies for not attending and some additional congratulations. The expression on his face did not bode well.

'I found him,' his son replied blankly, now standing next to his father, scanning the room, his eyes not truly seeing.

'And?'

Elladan shook his head.

'I truly do not think I should speak of this.'

'What do you mean?'

Catching his father's arm Elladan pulled him aside.

'He... I...' He shook his head. 'I do not know what to say.'

Elrond chuckled.

'You sound as if you caught him at something.'

'Perhaps I did,' Elladan replied.

Looking at him intently, the elder Elf-lord raised an eyebrow.

'Please explain.'

'I found him during a rather intimate exchange with a lady.'

Smiling, Elrond turned.

'Perhaps we should rather congratulate him then.'

'I do not think the lady's husband would much appreciate that.'

Meeting his son's eyes, Elrond returned to seriousness at once.

'Perhaps you were mistaken.'

'I hope I was.'

'You recognised the lady?'

Slowly Elladan nodded.

'I have seen her at Fingolfin's Halls several times.'

'A name?'

'I do not know her name. But I can point out her husband to you right now.'

A simple nod of the head was enough and Elrond quickly turned away again.

Before father and son were able to exchange anything else, Elrohir, Mîrlinde at his arm, neared. 

'I propose we go to my house now, and return here for the banquet tonight,' he said, smiling comfortably. 

Looking at Elrond, Elladan nodded.

'I shall go find Aurehen.'

'She was with Daeradar,' Elrohir called after him, before looking at Elrond. 'What ails my brother?'

'Have you seen your mother?' Elrond parried the question. 

'She is waiting for us with Celebriníel. Is something the matter?'

Elrond shook his head.

'We shall speak of it later. What of Glorfindel?'

'I told him to meet us outside. Elernil will stay here.'

'Very well.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Alian and Malthon are characters from my story "Ereinion". Some information about what happened between them and Gil-galad can be found there.

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	13. Council

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: I do apologise to everyone who I surprised and/or  sent scurrying to read "Ereinion", last time. (come to think of it, no I don't ;))   
It's my favourite story though. Loved writing it.  
And about this fic never ending: you will all be begging me to end it in another chapter or twenty. *giggles and falls off chair*

**kalurien**: *gives all the prezzies and chocolate elfies you could ever want* *hugs*

**Emmica**: Aahaha... No one is nice to poor Ereinion lately. Maybe it went out of fashion? (methinks he likes to angst too much though ;)) we don't call him the High King of Angst for nothing, do we?

**Fiona Rayne**: Do you suppose there's a book for hunch monsters? How to keep them under control? *hides "How To Keep Hunch Monsters Off The Scent"-book behind her back*

**Mouse**: Well, Ereinion and gentlemanliness... I like the idea. Hehehe... *watches you hug Malthon*

**Loquacious**: *gives chocolate elfie* 

**morchaint**: Me? Planning/plotting something? *looks innocent*

**Artanis**: *gives chocolate Glorfindel*

**Alena**: I like complex, yes... :P Stop hugging Malthon already!

**ShinElrond**: *huggles* Silly... :D

**Case**: *pats*I love it when you make no sense. 

**Jessica**: Have fun reading Ereinion. (and I'll try to have Elernil do some rambunctious things, he's not grown-up just yet ;)))

**WatcherChild**: Glad you're enjoying!

**Rose Red**: You gave me the greatest compliment I've ever gotten. Thank you! I am planning to write more about Elladan and Elrohir in future chapters, you'll see. And you're right, this all feels a lot like being an introductory then again, you know more than most, hmm? ;))) 

**Elarin**: Hehehe, I can't bring in Alian? *evil grin* Why not? *gives more chocolate elfies* (in case you run out)

**Anon E. Mus**: No private talk yet, and no Celebriníel for now either. It will come though. (if the elfies will allow me to it)

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**Chapter Twelve     Council**

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Glorfindel strode through the room, hands behind his back. Elrohir's house in Tirion was where they were all staying, and it was certainly very comfortable, but he simply did not have any eye for it at the moment.

'If he were in love, I would be the last he would tell, methinks.'

Elrond, sunken back deeply in one of the comfortable chairs, sighed.

'He knows this cannot be. He knew it then.'

Elladan was silently seated across the room, hand to his head, with no intention to join the conversation.

'Perhaps everyone is simply overreacting,' Celebrían offered, placing her hand on her husband's shoulder.

Frowning Glorfindel looked at Elrond.

'How fair is this towards Malthon?'

Celeborn, seated not far removed, looked up.

'He is mature, as she is as well. It is not up to us to pass judgement. And what lies in their past has not always been fair.' 

'This is not a superior argument,' Glorfindel commented wryly. 

'Then what would you tell him? Or her, for that matter.' Celeborn replied patiently. 'Especially since no one truly knows what has transpired yet.'

It was then that Elrohir entered, and all looked up at him. Being the closest to Ereinion, it seemed his opinion was most appreciated. But he would not speak of it, though he had listened.

'I propose we return to the Halls, or we will miss the banquet,' was all he said, waiting patiently for a reply from the others.

--~~*~~--

Entering the impressive halls, where most of the other guests were waiting until one of the hosts would lead them to where the banquet was held, Elrond could not help but try to find Ereinion, searching those who were among the assembled crowd. Though unsuccessful in finding the High Prince, he did find Alian and Malthon. 

As Celebrían held his arm, Alian held Malthon's, and in outward appearance there was nothing that separated either couple from the other. 

Celebrían placed her hand on his arm.

'Be still, El-nîn.'

It was Fingon, appearing from somewhere, who welcomed them, his face serious. 

'Elrond, you have a moment?'

'Of course,' he nodded, glancing at Celebrían, who gave an acquiescing nod. 

Together, the two Elf-lords left the hall and entered a spacious but near-empty corridor, leading into the large house. 

'Both my father and I would much appreciate it if you attempted to speak with Ereinion.'

'What do you mean?' Elrond asked, frowning.

'Ever since the ceremony, he seems preoccupied, we cannot be certain. He seems reluctant to speak at all. I fear we made a mistake asking this of him.'

Fingon opened a door and lead Elrond into a comfortable room, no doubt meant for the more private unofficial conversations taking place in these halls. 

It was there also that Fingolfin stood, near Ereinion, involved in a rather one-sided conversation. Elernil was situated in a window seat, watching the two Elf-lords. His eyes met Elrond's, who returned a heartening look to his grandson. 

As soon as Fingolfin noticed Elrond's entrance, he stepped away, again with no reaction from Ereinion. Nearing Elrond, the elder of the High Princes looked at him, studying his face carefully. 

'He will not speak to either of us, though I do believe he was speaking with Elernil not a moment ago. We do not know what troubles him.'

'I might have an idea,' Elrond smiled weakly, and in reply, Fingolfin nodded and made to leave, Fingon staying by the door. Ereinion turned, but was silent still, standing tall, hands behind his back. 

'Elladan no doubt told you?' he asked at last.

'He did.' Elrond replied, nearing. 

'What do you think of this then?'

Elrond was uncertain whether they were going to speak the words, or whether they would continue to avoid naming the subject, as if somehow neither Fingon nor Elernil was to know of it.

'I am not the one to judge,' he said. 

They looked at each other. Ereinion gave a shake of the head.

'However much I am told I am no longer Gil-galad, however much I try to tell myself I am not, I cannot deny I have inherited that past, those memories. Part of me is him, while another part is definitely not.'

He watched Elrond observe him silently. A strange change from before. Somehow, Elrond made him speak, a waterfall of words that had been sadly arid when his grandfather had been here a moment ago. 

'I have known pain from a past life,' he continued. 

_You **know** pain from a past life_, he commented privately. 

'But with that pain also came friendship, love.'

'You love her?' Elrond asked.

He watched the High Prince, who seemed to contemplate the answer, as if it were the first time he considered it.

'If she feels for me what she felt for Gil-galad long ago,' he started slowly, 'I do not think I can honestly claim to share such feelings.'

'You could have simply answered "no",' Elrond smiled.

'Yes,' Ereinion replied, playfully pursing his lips, though his eyes still seemed devoid of any such playfulness. 

'But you kissed her?' 

'Uhm, I think rather she kissed me,' the High Prince commented, sitting down. He looked up at Elrond. 'I could be mistaken.'

'If you have any knowledge left from that previous life, I suspect you know exactly who kissed who.' 

'Is she still here?' Ereinion asked, his tone serious. 

'She is.'

'Banquet started?'

Elrond raised an eyebrow. 

'What do you think?'

'I suppose they did the we-have-to-wait-for-the-guest-of-honour-thing?'

'I suspect Fingolfin did, yes.'

'Are you hungry?'

'I am,' commented Elernil from the window. Ereinion smiled forgivingly. 

'Then we shall go.'

He rose and Elrond placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice quiet.

'I do wish to speak of this with you further. For it evidently goes deeper than merely what you have spoken now.'

For a moment, Ereinion seemed confused. Then he resigned himself to the notion. 

'You... How long are you to stay in Tirion?'

'As long as need be.'

The High Prince chuckled. 

'I would not dare to keep you here that long.'

Smiling, Elrond motioned Elernil. 

'We shall see.'

Together, they all left the rooms and joined the guests in the halls where the celebratory banquet was to be held.

--~~*~~--

Ereinion smiled as he entered, receiving a raised hand from the other end of the hall, where his grandfather was about to enter his office with a visitor. He paid little attention to whoever it was, instead taking the first hallway which he knew would lead him into the gardens. 

For a moment he stood on the terrace, very still, closing his eyes and enjoying the light of Anar. 

The past few months since his installation had gone well. Generally they had, he could not deny it. 

He knew it had to do with the fact Elrond was near, and had a way of dropping by just when he needed to blow off steam. 

Woe the day that he would decide to go back to Imloth with his family. 

Stepping down from the flagged stones onto the more rugged path, he entered into the gardens. 

He knew that if he continued, there was a seat, situated peacefully beneath the trees.

Quite caught up in thought, he reached his destination and found it occupied.

For a moment he contemplated leaving again, but could not bring himself to it.

Carefully, gently, he placed his hand on the shoulder of the lady. 

Looking around he feared she would rise and depart, but instead he was treated on a broad smile. 

'My lord.'

'My lady,' he nodded. 

Averting her eyes, the smile disappeared from her face and Alian shook her head.

'I wish to apologise for what I did. I...'

Catching her hand he shook his head.

'There is no need to speak of it. I know.'

Again she smiled, but weakly. 

'You are not the Ereinion I knew.'

Part of him wanted to say she was correct. Another to say she was wrong. He remained undecided on which part was closest to the truth. 

'I know he loved you. That much I can tell,' he answered instead. 

'And you?' she asked timidly, her eyes still not meeting his.

'It does not matter. For however we look at it, you are married. But as you said, I am not Gil-galad. I am not the one you once desired.'

She nodded slowly.

'I do understand.'

_I do not. _He smiled the thought away. 'We never tried to be mere friends. Possibly we should.'

'Yes,' she nodded. 'We should.'

Rising, Alian indicated she was going back. Ereinion offered his arm.

'You are going to the Council now?' she asked, taking it.

'Indeed I am, I merely came to collect my grandfather on the way. He likes the walk.'

'It is possible to reach the Council Halls through the gardens, is it not?'

He nodded.

'From Fingolfin's gardens it is indeed. I predict it shall be the way he decides to take.'

Entering again, they were confronted with Malthon and Fingolfin, who were apparently already waiting.

As by routine, Ereinion cleared his face of emotion and straightened his back.

'My Lord,' he spoke, his voice treacherously stabile, and he bowed his head shortly in Malthon's direction. With a smile at Alian, he watched her join her husband.

Malthon bowed his head as well, but said nothing. Ereinion tried to ignore it, turning to Fingolfin.

'Daeradar, we must go if we are to arrive on time.'

The eldest High Prince smiled and nodded.

'He is right,' he said to Malthon, smiling at Alian. 'I do look forward to our next meeting.'

Bowing away, the two High Princes indeed exited to take the garden path.

They spoke little, two pairs of hands behind backs, two bent heads, as if the garden around them was not alive and populated with a collection of trees and flowers the likes of which was even rare on Aman.

'Be ever so careful, Ereinion,' Fingolfin finally said.

'Yes.' was the only reply. 

--~~*~~--

'I do not think the honourable High Prince is one to speak in this aspect...' The golden-haired Elf-lord said, looking positively smug as he gazed at the youngest High Prince.

Ereinion sat deeply back in his chair, which stood next to that of his father. 

_Keep your tongue, Ereinion, he is only trying to draw you out, _he told himself.

'... For he has only been here a short while and knows very little of the way of things here.'

There was a murmur, and Ereinion was uncertain whether it was of approval or opposition. 

This was what he had watched them do for all the while he had been in Tirion after leaving Imloth.

Listening to endless debates about trivial things, housing and building, fountains and sculptures, sometimes trading. And hearing each of them indirectly tell how much wiser and more experienced they were from any other.

Fingolfin gave a warning smile, as only he could, and turned to Finrod, who sat comfortably observing as most.

'Lord Finrod, if you keep the members of your house in check, I will do likewise.'

With a playful nod, Finrod relayed the smile to Gildor Inglorion, who it was that had uttered the words, with an air as if Fingolfin's words had been spoken in private and not out in the open. 

Smiling broadly, Gildor stepped back and seated himself, yet another council member stepping up for his chance to voice an opinion. The youngest High Prince was spared further remarks concerning his "inexperience", as the debate turned to harvesting. 

Was there a need for this Council? Ereinion wondered, in an attempt to not let his mind dwell on Gildor's comments. And more importantly, was there truly need of him as a member?

Totalling 144 seats, one hundred and forty one of them were meant for Lords and Masters of lore, leaving three for the High Princes. Previously only two.

In a way, the council was not an organ of Elvish society, not even in the political sense. It had no authority, though Finarfin was careful to keep up the appearance that it had. In a way, it was merely meant to give some the idea they were still involved in decision-making, as they had long ago been in Middle-earth.

Any decision made within these halls, was simply advice. 

It was true that the High King did not lightly disregard any voice coming from the High Council. It was also true that he had no obligation to keep to anything coming out of these halls. 

Official decisions, the conclusion of a debate, consisted of two parts. The first was formed by the opinions of the 141 elected members. It was a shared opinion, and it was usually with great effort that it was united enough to be brought into the open. The Council did like its discussions. 

The second proportion was the say of the three High Princes, which was far less problematically reached, though never taken without due consideration. 

The two opinions, accompanied by all arguments opposing and supporting, were presented to Finarfin, as well as to the public, which was free to read and submit any comments, suggestions and complaints, which would in due time be discussed again. And again... and again.

Thoughtfully, Ereinion sat forward, looking about the room. 

Over the past days, he had seriously started to doubt the whole necessity for it. 

In Middle-earth, in Lindon, this had made sense. There had been danger, there had been little, even no, other guidance. But here...

He folded his arms. Next time, he would think of bringing a book.

--~~*~~--

'You do not mind staying?' Elrond asked, as Celebrían replaced one of the books on a shelf. She smiled and looked at him.

'For the fourth time, El-nîn, no, I do not mind.'

Folding his hands behind his back, Elrond looked down for a moment.

'I cannot predict for how long we shall be in Tirion.'

'It would be nice if we were here during winter,' she commented, still busying herself with books, 'I recall spending a winter in Tirion when I had only just arrived, and much enjoying it.' She paused a moment. 'At least as much as I was able to enjoy anything then.'

Elrond smiled and Celebrían descended the stepladder, a volume of poetry clasped underneath an arm. 

Once back on solid ground, she placed her other arm around his waist.

'It might be good for Celebriníel as well. A change of surroundings, so to speak.' 

Following her example and resting a hand on her waist, Elrond kissed her brow.

'I am glad for that.'

She smiled at him.

'How is Ereinion?'

'Busy, or he pretends to be,' he replied, taking the volume from her hand and leaving it on the table.

Grinning, Celebrían wrapped both her arms around his waist, looking up.

'And you have no ambition to take a seat in the Council, _herven_?'

Moving some strands of hair back, he grinned as well, letting his hands slide over her back.

'I have few ambitions nowadays... I merely wish to please my wife.'

Very gently, he teased her, offering lips and then retreating, and Celebrían played along.

'And is this an ambition which you feel you are fulfilling?' she asked, now denying him a merging of lips. 

'Tis not easy to discern...' he whispered, bending forward to kiss her neck, lingering slightly longer then was needed. 'For not always am I able to...' 

Chuckling, she kissed him, her hands finding their way inside his robes. 

'And your wife is always hard to please, is she not?'

'Aye, Lady,' he replied. 'It seems you know her?'

Mischievously, his fingers began to test laces and fastenings. 

'Perhaps we should speak of this ambition in private, my Lord,' Celebrían whispered with a smile.

'Possibly that would be for the better,' Elrond assented hoarsely. 

'Yes,' she nodded, giving in to another kiss.

'Hmm.'

--~~*~~--

He laughed merrily as she mischievously pressed her lips against his stomach before meeting his eyes.

Her flesh, as his own, was still warm and clammy, due to their exertions, their breaths back to normal by now. 

She had settled between his legs, her arms around his waist, her head resting just above his abdomen, as he sat somewhat upright, resting comfortable against a pillow that he had placed against the headboard.

He was reminded of the young lady he had first met when she had travelled with her mother to Imladris, his Imladris. 

She still played the games she had played when they were just married, still had the same playful look in her eyes.

It had been gone, after... she had not shown the expression during her last year in Middle-earth. 

But it had returned, he had recognised it, the first night they had spent together, here on Aman. Somehow, it seemed as if they had always been so, and that whatever happened in Middle-earth was like a dream, almost as if it had never been. 

It was the most comforting sign to him, if he even needed one after all these years, that she had indeed healed. Still present, somewhere, in both their minds, it did not matter any longer. It was not something which was worth dwelling upon. 

Elrond smiled and ran his fingers through her silver hair. 

'So,' she said, languidly allowing her hands to touch and travel his chest, 'if my husband does not wish to become a council member, why is it he spends so much time in assembly with Glorfindel and Finrod?' she kissed him just above the navel and elicited a content sigh from him. 

'Ah no, we spoke of another matter entirely. A matter that will require my absence for several days, perhaps.'

Moving up to meet his lips, Celebrían observed him curiously.

'Soon? What is it you have in mind?'

'I wish to speak with Ereinion, but as long as he is in Tirion, there is a small chance it will actually happen,' he answered, stroking her back. 

'Where shall you go?'

'Finrod says he has a plan. He and Glorfindel are preparing everything.'

Celebrían smiled.

'They did not tell you?'

'They did not.'

Bending forward, she softly bit his lower lip.

'Poor boy.'

'Yes,' he said, trying to hold back a grin. 'I need to be comforted.'

'Of course you do,' she answered, kissing him deeply, feeling his hands occupy themselves with less innocent touches. 

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I can't help myself... No. Ha.


	14. Conversations

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: You know you all just make my day, don't you? Very well... Da Plan... :D   
*throws chocolate elfies all around*

**Artanis**: *pats Gofi* He is a tricky one, he is. ;)))

**Emmica**: Elrond is still the serious Elf-lord, don't worry. He just doesn't seem to have much to worry about. Liking Fingolfin, huh? I don't think it's a bad thing per se... 

**Fiona Rayne**: Make the crown. ;)) Hunch monsters don't react very well to side-tracking, I've noticed...

**Woman of the Dunedain**: It wouldn't be fair if I had Malthon and Ereinion fight. The outcome would be so very predictable... ;))

**Alena**: Me? Not nice to Ereinion? *shiftly look* Never miiiind... 

**Danielle**: *glomps right back* Elrond is amusing. ;)

**kalurien**: *watches you* *dies giggling too*

**WatcherChild**: I think the relationships between the Noldor and the Vanyar and the Teleri and certainly the Sindar exists (haven't focussed on it too much yet though). No animosity between them (ah, maybe a little, for old times' sake ;)), if that was what you meant. :)

**Mouse**: Hehhe, no Schizo-Gil, don't worry. *offers chocolate elfie*

**Loquacious**: *gives a new choco-elfie* But you said the evil "H"-word! Aaaaaah! *runs away from it* 

**morchaint**: *blushes* I wouldn't trust me when I'm looking innocent... Hehehe... Chocolate elfie?

**Furius**: Don't feel deprived... *gives two chocolate elfies* 

**Lady Harlequin**: *pats and slips a box of gourmet elfie goodies*

**Rose Red**: *gives chocolate elfies* Just don't get chocolate all over the pom-poms... ;))

**Anon E. Mus**: I'll think about *those* scenes. :)

**LoveChilde**: Once I truly have something NC-17, I'll hyperlink to it, don't worry. You won't have to miss a thing if it's written. ;))

**Desideria**: Thankies! :D

**ShinElrond**: No, you're right, I've always been a lost case where it concerns El & Brí *eats muffins and chocolate elfies and choco-muffin elfies* Yum!

**Elarin**: Glad I entertain. *bows, chuckles* Ran out of chocolate elfies yet? And blond elves... The dark-haired ones can be a pain, but the blond ones... ;))

**Earelen**: *gives chocolate elfie and a cookie* 

**Case**: You just go ahead not making sense. ;))

**Finch**: Glad to you're back *gives several chocolate elfies* And the Council, well, you know, the wise must have their portion of healthy discussion. *tries to look remotely not amused while typing that*

Slight warning: philosophical waxing ahead. 

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**Chapter Thirteen     Conversations**

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Elrohir felt slightly guilty as he nodded at his father and the Lord Fingon, who were conversing quietly. 

He knew full well that they were both waiting for Ereinion, or rather his father was, Fingon merely keeping him company until the youngest High Prince would finish his meeting. 

Something told him, the conversation was definitely not meant for Ereinion's ears. Also the travel-clothing his father wore made him believe something was afoot. He had expected his father to accompany his mother and sister on their journey to the sea-side, but now Elrohir began to suspect him to be otherwise occupied. 

Slipping into the private council rooms again, he met Ereinion's gaze for a moment, while one of the councillors was reporting on several points that would be discussed during the next meeting of the High Council.

_Curious how loyalties sometimes shift_, he said to himself. Not that he would ever expect to have to pick a side. Not between his father and Ereinion, in any case. But nevertheless, on a professional level he was loyal to Ereinion. There was a personal level involved, yes, but the loyalty towards his father, personal too, was nevertheless different. 

He watched Elernil, who sat somewhere near, cheeks red and eyes attentive. 

It did not seem too long ago when he and Elladan had gazed at their father, Glorfindel and Erestor, in almost the same fashion. He recognised some of the hero-worshipping his son seemed to display towards Ereinion. 

With a smile, he sat down and turned his mind to the meeting.

--~~*~~--

'He speaks rarely of it.'

Elrond looked at Fingon.

'He never spoke of it to you?'

'The closest he ever came to truly speaking of it with anyone was with Fingolfin. And you know how they stand opposite each other now. It is why we appreciate your presence, your friendship with him, so much.'

With an understanding expression, Elrond smiled.

'Celebrían says Fingolfin and Ereinion are too much alike to get along.'

Fingon chuckled.

'She might be closer to the truth than anyone suspects.' He returned Elrond's smile, but the rest of his face belied the expression almost at once. Then he nodded. 'Speak to him.'

'I will.'

Greeting Finrod and Glorfindel, dressed for travel as Elrond was, Fingon left the halls, and its inhabitants, no doubt on his way to attend his own council and subsequent meetings. 

Still smiling, but somehow as if he had better reason now than before, Elrond observed the two Elves.

'Good-day, my Lords. All is prepared?'

Glorfindel, slyly grinning, held up some garments, and Finrod gave an amused nod.   

'All except the most important thing, of course. Or person.'

'The easiest part.' Glorfindel chuckled.

'So you say,' Elrond commented, pursing his lips. 'But be prepared to pick him up and carry him to the stables, if need be.'

'You think that will be necessary?' Finrod enquired.

'At this moment, I have no way to be certain.'

--~~*~~--

Ereinion was not surprised that visitors were announced, and he did not even ask for any names as he gave permission for them to enter. Sitting behind his desk, he glanced over a last document, not able to keep his mind from wandering. 

If they would leave in not too long a while, he would be able to make a discreet exit and emerge himself in one of the several interesting books he had recently found in the Great Library. 

_You are turning into a scholar._ He smiled. _Better than a politician. _

Ereinion looked up at the three Elf-lords that entered the study. He mustered a smile and rose.

'Welcome, to what do I owe this pleasure?'

'We,' Glorfindel said, throwing over riding gloves and a heavy cloak, 'Are here to collect you, my Lord.'

Ereinion caught the items of clothing and then looked from Finrod to Elrond. 

He seemed lost for a moment, not able to find words, not understanding.

'I cannot go,' he finally managed. 

'Of course you can,' Finrod smiled forgivingly. 'It is only for a few days, and even though the Council Halls will be empty without you, they will overcome it.'

His eyes still not entirely trusting, the High Prince looked at Finrod specifically. 

'And where is it we are going?'

Glorfindel walked over and took the cloak from Ereinion, only to drape it over his shoulders.

'That, is a secret,' he said decisively. 'But you will know soon enough. Now, are you coming or forcing us to carry you?'

Helplessly, the High Prince looked at Elrond, who smiled. 

'Oh, come, do you not trust us?'

'I trust you, and I think I trust Finrod, but I do not trust him,' he nodded at Glorfindel. 'Especially not when sporting that grin on his face.'

None of the three Elf-lords was able to remain serious at this point, all of them trying nevertheless. Ereinion, putting aside his irritation, shrugged. 

'Very well, lead the way.'

'Not very likely,' Glorfindel smirked as he motioned Ereinion to go first, following Finrod and Elrond into the direction of the stables.

--~~*~~--

The past days, the weather had been rather dreary, especially for the time of the year. Nevertheless, as soon as the four riders cleared the gates of Tirion, which were situated at the downside of the Hill of Túna, Anar relinquished her position behind the cloud formations and greeted the Elf-lords with confident rays. 

Ereinion could not help but smile, as they made to travel the same way as the light: west.

But where they would have continued west had their destination been Imloth, they now turned south, a route he knew well from his days as his grandfather's messenger. 

It was near nightfall that the border of Oromë's woods was reached, and Finrod, without much opposition from anyone, directed they should rest the horses, if only for a few hours. 

A small camp was quickly set up, a fire burning before long, and some blankets placed on the ground to sit upon. 

The horses they left to wander freely, after Glorfindel had seen to their feeding. 

Finrod dealt around cups of wine and some other refreshments, and soon, they settled down and were all staring into the flames.  

Resting an elbow on his knee, Ereinion seemed far away, but his voice was clear when he spoke.

'And now we shall have a story,' he looked at Elrond. 'If you are willing to tell us one.'

Smiling, Elrond sat back. 

'We shall see if I can recall anything besides nursery rhymes.'

--~~*~~--

As Anar took the sky again, replacing Isil, the riders mounted once more.

The flames of the campfire had long burned up after they had no longer been tended to, only grey ashes and black scorched wood left. 

Ereinion had first suspected the journey had been towards Aulë's halls, but when they had gone south this morning, he had begun to doubt it. 

Watching the trees around him change shape, from sturdy ancient oaks to the finer pine trees, only to observe the pines change to deciduous trees again, Ereinion suddenly realised it. 

He grinned and looked at Glorfindel.

'If we pick up our pace, we can just about arrive at Oromë's Halls in time for dinner.'

Spurring his horse, he was off the next moment, Glorfindel close on his heels.

Amusedly Finrod looked at Elrond, with whom he had been quietly speaking.

'He does not lack the earnest application necessary to make a success of a political career in Tirion. Rather the opposite. But he forgets to live, I fear.

'It was not so in Middle-earth,' Elrond said, thoughtfully. 'there he rather taught me to live.'

'He will find his purpose,' the Elf-lord smiled, though not with all conviction he was prone to. 'Fingon took many years to be able to deal with the after-effects of Mandos' Halls. And he had a wife beside him.'

'How much are you whom you were then?' Elrond asked, somehow more comfortable asking Finrod than anyone else.

'Close to the same. But my time in waiting was short,' he replied, eyes fixed somewhere in front of him, his golden hair shining in the glimpses of light falling through the roof of leaves above.

'The longer the time spent in waiting, the more changes in...?'

Finrod raised a cautionary hand.

'Rule of thumb, Elrond. Those who have returned do not tend to follow rules. And Ereinion always had a way of not following any rules at all.' He laughed. 'Now, let us follow, or they shall leave us no dinner.'

'Agreed,' Elrond grinned, and they followed the two Elf-lords further into the woods, where all of them were already welcomed, even if they did not directly notice.

--~~*~~--

Ereinion was definitely radiant as he dismounted and accepted the cup of wine offered to him by an attendant. Face flushed with excitement it took him some effort to keep his breath at a steady pace. After returning the cup, he turned to his horse and tenderly stroked the animal just above the eyes. Then, with a thankful nod, he allowed it to be led away.

'You liked it then?' Elrond asked. They had soon caught up with both Ereinion and Glorfindel, and most of the journey had consisted of telling stories and racing from one grove to the next. Things Ereinion had enjoyed when still at Imloth. Things he had enjoyed when still in Middle-earth.

'I did indeed,' the High Prince answered, smiling broadly. 'And I was in much need of it, I believe.'

'You were,' Elrond nodded. 'But come inside now, we are the guests of the Lord Oromë tonight, and I have no doubt our host awaits us.'

It was indeed the deep, well-known voice that welcomed them upon entering.

'So he that is called Ereinion, High Prince of the city of Tirion, has finally returned to my Halls?'

Amusedly the High Prince bowed his head.

'Indeed, my Lord Oromë.'

The Vala, seemingly quite comfortable in his physical form, approached the new arrivals. His face shone, his eyes glimmered, and his raiment was a mixture of dark green and brown, much like the forests they had ridden through not long ago. 

'Be you welcome, and Finrod, Elrond and Glorfindel as well,' he smiled, causing yet another light to brighten in his features. 'Do take nourishment and sit you down, for it is not often we are honoured with the presence of such high lords.'

The four of them chuckled, well aware the last part was untrue. Important visitors seemed plentiful in the Halls of Oromë. 

It was much later in the evening that Ereinion, with great stealth, managed to escape the watchful eye of his three companions, who were much enjoying themselves in the meantime; songs and tales again abundantly present this evening.

As he walked the forest, which was lit not only by the glow of stars reaching through some of the leafage above, but also by small flickering lanterns hanging from lonely branches, he observed many creatures that used the night as their playground. 

The abundance of life surprised him as much as it had the very first time errantry brought him here, but, he thought, as he had realised then, Oromë was not called a tamer of beasts lightly. 

With a smile he watched small living things leave their burrows, most likely to find food for their offspring. 

It had been a good idea of them to bring him here. 

Then again, between the three of them, Finrod, Elrond and Glorfindel, there were few things that could not turn out right.

Besides animals, the woods were not devoid of Elves either, and he could distinguish groups making their way parallel to the path he followed between the trees, not intruding on his solitude, perhaps as long as he did not seek company. 

'Where have the days gone when we were kings and lords? Is it merely because there is no evil to fight that we have all lost some purpose?' he sighed aloud to himself.

'Is that how you feel?'

He turned in surprise, to find a familiar face. He mustered a smile.

'Perhaps it is.'

'Do we not seek new purposes, all throughout our lives?'

'I had a purpose, even if perhaps it was only a simple one. I was content at Imloth.' He sighed. 'I was, you know. I cannot explain it.'

'I know you were. You were long before I was.'

Ereinion shook his head, though not in decline.

'We are strange cases, you and I. How easy things would be if we had been born here, had lived here, without the marring that hides within us.'

Elrond tightened his lips. However much he did not wish to admit it, the marring was in Celebriníel too, he knew. It would be in her children, and in their children. The marring would be something that would always stay, even if it hid deep. But it would be less obvious than in Middle-earth. At least he hoped it would be...

'Even if not that noticeable, the marring is in every one of the Elder, whether born here or in Middle-earth.'

Staring into the distance, the High Prince shook his head.

'They have not seen the look on someone's eyes when death... Have not smelled the sickening stench of rotting flesh. Some of the marring of Arda they may have in them indeed, but not like that... not like that...'

Both silent, they listened to voices raised in song. 

'Was I ever a politician?' Ereinion asked suddenly. 'I mean Gil-galad... I...' he shook his head and groaned. 'I should really stop differentiating.' _Especially since I do not seem to do so in my mind any longer._

Shaking his head, not able to withhold a grin, Elrond looked at him. 

'Not in the sense of a council member here. Your style of politics in Middle-earth was certainly admirable. Even after spending an Age beside you, looking over your shoulder, in a way, I was never able to quite match it.'

'You had, you _have_, wisdom.'

'I had a good teacher. I have always had good teachers. For knowledge, good judgement, for being a father, for politics, for battle. And when you were no longer there to teach me, I found another. Who taught me love, to be a husband, who gave me the chance to be a father.'

Turning, Ereinion shook his head.

'What wisdom was it, that made me be out there, then? It seems no wisdom to me.'

'Speak of it then.'

'I do not wish to.'

'Oh but you do.' Elrond replied. 'Inevitably every conversation we have had since I arrived on Aman has ended up here, at this point. Only because I did not persist, thinking this was something you did not wish to repeat over and over, I did not ask further. I do now. I insist. Tell me.'

'Speak of what?' Ereinion replied, almost spitting out the words. 'Speak of how I try to understand? I do not. Speak of how I feel? Most of the time your guess is a good as mine. Speak of what I felt, when I stood there, and saw him approaching? I can merely say that day was the last that I truly comprehended who I was, what I was meant to do.'

Elrond looked at him. How very clearly did he remember the shadow walking purposely, making its way through the clash taking place on the plains of Mordor.

There had been no hesitation. If it had been so, he was not now able to recall it. He had grasped at once what the Dark Lord searched for. 

Elven rings... Revenge... Gil-galad...

Then he remembered that other time, when he had felt the same, when he had known, had seen, but was not able to act. After Eregion's fall, when Imladris was only a simple encampment, not meant to become what it would later on. 

He recalled looking at the messenger, the sting of tears in his eyes, so much anger, so much hate, all focused on one person. 

One being. 

He had clasped his sword in his hand, the sword bestowed upon him by Gil-galad, before he rode out. His other hand, balled into a fist, hung inanimately alongside his body.

The messenger had seemed afraid of him, of the usually so peaceful Elf-lord.

For the first time in his life, at least his adult life, he had not cared. There had been nothing he could do, and it had made something deep within him shatter. Without any pretence of wanting to tame the anger within, he had flung the sword away, hearing it hit something, most likely stone, the metal cling ringing harshly in the silence. After that, he had disappeared into the direction of the settlement. 

_Gorthaur's forces moving towards Lindon... Supposedly after something that could be found there._

'Sauron sought you out,' he commented blankly, back in the present. 

Ereinion shook his head, eyes closed.

'I do not remember,' he said softly.

Moving closer, looking at his friend intently, Elrond refused to let it pass so easily. Was this not why they had come here?

'You remember. You tried to shake me off. Very successfully. But I saw, as you saw. He sought you. Perhaps even the both of us.'

'Can you imagine the anger he must have felt towards both you and me? How easily he could have destroyed us both, had we been side by side...'

For a moment, Elrond could do nothing but hesitate, uncertain if he was meant to answer. Then Ereinion continued, eyes still closed.

'One of the things that is asked of one of the Firstborn in Mandos, is to forgive. Not to harbour anything against the one that forced you to separate from your body. To realise such things lie in the past, and that nothing in Arda can or could prevent it, turn back time...' He paused for a moment before resuming.

'I think I have. I know I have, or I would not be here. But it is hard, Elrond. That road is hard. I do not condone anything he did, but I do see his point, somehow.'

'If I could have, I would have taken your place. Made the ultimate sacrifice for my King,' Elrond whispered, once more quite vividly confronted with past events. Suddenly it was as if they had only left Middle-earth yesterday. As if it was only days earlier that they had been on the battle plain...

'These things are what make us who we are,' Ereinion said softly, almost as if he had not heard. 'What happened had to happen as it did then, that much I know. What I do not know is why I am here. I doubt Ilúvatar meant for me to return so I could witness petty bickering in the High Council.' He sighed. 'If you had died in my stead, would I have fostered Isildur's heirs? Would all have gone as it has? Without your sons, your daughter, would we find ourselves where we are, now?' He finally looked at Elrond, the smile on his lips a wry one. 'I did not spent nearly an age in Mandos playing cards, my friend. And however much I try to deny myself, and however much you pretend you are not one of the Elves we owe most to in our history, neither of us will be able to escape destiny in the end.'

'I thought I was... I wanted to die that day.'

Ereinion looked at Elrond, very much aware these were matters that still lived vividly within the both of them.

'Did we not see it coming?'

Silently, Elrond returned his look. 

'We did. I could not, or did not wish to, recognise it. But we should have known, should have recognised. There were the signs all around us. And I should have ordered you to stay in your tent that day. And tied you to a chair if you had not abided by it.'

They both chuckled weakly, though not of true amusement. 

'What happened? After...?' Ereinion asked cautiously.

Needing a moment to collect his thoughts Elrond finally shook his head.

'I was very distraught. I carried you back, at least for a way. Then they came to collect me. Glorfindel, Erestor and Círdan. Isildur, the Ring. If I... I wonder if I could have persuaded him if my mind had been where it was supposed to be.'

He felt Ereinion place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

'Perhaps it was not yet time. Perchance the Ring was not supposed to be destroyed then.' The High Prince smiled almost indistinctly. 'What then? What of you?'

Clearing his throat Elrond let out a sigh. 

'After Isildur refused?'

'Yes.'

'I ran back, from the mountain, back to the encampment. I stayed in your tent for a while. Isildur came, I tried... I did not even try.'

'And you left?'

Elrond nodded slowly. 

'I left almost at once, after the Barad-dûr had been demolished.' 

'Lindon?'

'Lindon. I refused to stay in that dark place. I refused to leave your remains there. And I felt I could not yet return to Imladris.'

Slowly nodding, Ereinion sat down on a fallen tree that lay sprawled across the forest floor. He looked up at Elrond.

'Where did you take them?'

'Forlindon,' the other whispered. 'If one walks straight from the Sea-garden to the sea, it lies close to the path.'

'What does it look like?'

'It stands deeply anchored into the sand, at the highest point we could find, so that the dunes would not bury it as the years passed. It is dark marble, with your device alone carved into it, coloured in silver.'

'What of Aeglos?'

'I did not know what became of it, of Aeglos. Only when I asked about it much later, I think after Elladan and Elrohir were born even, I found Erestor had seen to most of your possessions, sending them to Imladris. And there it lies still.'

'I gather it is lost, then. For none are able to bring it to Aman now.'

Remorseful, Elrond shook his head. 

'If I had known I would meet you again, I would have brought it.'

'It does not matter, I simply wondered,' Ereinion replied with a shake of the head.

Sitting down besides the High Prince, Elrond sat forward and folded his hands, as if the position was more comfortable for him, somehow creating a barrier for his next query. 

'Your father tells me you never speak of it.'

'I have spoken of my time in the Halls, with my grandfather. But that was long ago, when I still did not remember everything. I had never asked about... the grave, and Aeglos. It is information that was never written down, I think, and I did not wish to ask those who might have known, truthfully.'

'It was information that was kept private,' Elrond replied. 'Especially when the days came that we feared they would find the burial place and exercise their wrath upon it. Defile it.' 

'Of course.'

'You never asked anyone? Celebrían could have told you.'

'I never did. I should have, perhaps.'

Strangely amused, a slight incomprehension on his face, Elrond stared at Ereinion.

'Sometimes, somehow, you truly try to distinguish yourself too vigorously from who you were then.'

'You are right. I shall stop it.'

'Only stop it if you feel you wish to.'

Ereinion smiled.

'Would I stop merely to please you?'

A surprised chuckle escaped Elrond's lips.

'Never.'

'There you go.'

'Do you want to speak of Mandos?'

Blankly staring at his feet, Ereinion seemed undecided. And yet it was not long before he spoke. 

'What surprised me most is how one affair can be treated from several points of view. I know I was both rewarded for not destroying the three Rings, as well as held responsible for the consequences of their sustained existence.'

'I was questioned on it as well, when arriving.'

'I suspect Galadriel was questioned more thoroughly on it than you were.' Ereinion pondered.

'Hmm, yes. The Valar have a way of seeing exactly what preoccupies you.'

'That they do.' Ereinion looked sideways. 'They questioned you about Eregion, no doubt?'

'Eregion, Mordor, the Rings and you, mostly. And Elladan and Elrohir.' Elrond responded.

The High Prince smiled.

'You felt guilty about Eregion. You always will, I suspect. Similarly I will always feel guilty about coming too late at Sirion. Those are the things that shape us, perhaps.'

'You sound like him now. Very much so.' Elrond commented.

Ereinion chuckled and folded his hands, sitting forward too.

'I wonder if I would be happier if I just admitted how much of Gil-galad is in me.'

'How happy will you be if you maintain denying the truth?'

'Not very, you make a valid point.'

'So what will you do?'

Stretching his legs, Ereinion looked thoughtful. 

'I shall go to Tirion and be whoever it is I am.' 

'Good,' Elrond agreed. Then he watched the habitual glimmer sneaking into his friend's eyes.

'I suspect it involves me speaking up in the Council. It might not be a bad idea to make some of those lords agree for a change.'

'You could make them concur, I think,' Elrond grinned. 'Gil-galad most likely could have.'

Tongue in cheek, Ereinion nodded.

'So I am told.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Túna: the hill on which Tirion was built

Aulë: the Smith, Vala concerned mostly with the substance of Arda, metal and rock (also creator of the dwarves)

Oromë: also a Vala, Huntsman of the Valar, Lord of the Forests

Anar: sun

Isil: moon

Gorthaur: "terrible dread" a Sindarin name (mostly First Age) for Sauron

Barad-dûr: "Dark Tower", Sauron's stronghold in Mordor

Forlindon: Lindon is generally assumed to exist out of two parts: Forlindon and Harlindon. I assume Gil-galad's palace was in Forlindon. 

Nemis's thing about Gil-galad's death: The Silmarillion explicitly states:   
_But at the last the siege was so strait that Sauron himself came forth; and he wrestled with Gil-galad and Elendil, and they both were slain, and the sword of Elendil broke under him as he fell._   
So basically, I think there was definitely a body for Elrond to bring to Lindon (since it was only Fëanor's spirit  that was "so fiery" "that as it sped his body fell to ash".  
And I go for burial too, since most Elvish casualties are buried, so it seems. 

Sirion: Gil-galad and Círdan came too late to prevent the Third Kinslaying, when the remaining sons of Fëanor attacked the Mouths of Sirion to claim the Silmaril Elwing had in her possession. 

I bow to the Encyclopedia of Arda: http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	15. Past Resurfacing

**High Princes of Tirion**  
by Nemis

A/N: I experienced some sort of omen not to post this chapter, because it accidentally got deleted and had to be scanned in from a somewhat revised version I had on paper (with all the horrible malformations of words coming along with scanning in text). Still, here it is. I think... Aargh...

*gives chocolate elfies to everyone* *waits for terrible things to happen now that it's posted*

I also wanted to point everyone to a story which I cannot deny influenced me somewhat this chapter (and just because I had the honour to beta it ;)). 

It's Alena's, and you can find it here: **The Other Shore** (http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1007498)

**kalurien**: You're the bestest, you know? Not only do you put up with me ranting, but you create order in those chaotic sentences I love to make too. *gives a cookie*

**Emmica**: Ah, you'll get your money's worth of angst later on. :))

**Fiona Rayne**: *watches you nance off* There will be some, don't worry. ;))

**Alena**: Thankies!

**Finch**: *listens* No squeaking brain sounds yet... But it's fun playing with the possible consequences of rebirth, and I'm glad it stirs the brain (it certainly takes up a lot of my time philosophising about it ;)) 

**Anon E. Mus**: Encyclopedia of Arda is great, the place where I check up on the little things. (and you're right, there is precious little about Gil-galad in any of Tolkien's books)

**Woman of the Dunedain**: *pats*

**Loquacious: **Glad I can still surprise you. ;)****

**Jessica**: Thank you!

**morchaint**: *secretly gives you an extra chocolate elfie*

**Arabella Thorne**: *bows deeply* Very happy you like it. :))

**Rose Red**: You've made a good point about ages, because I might have skipped some years with only a brief mention. (I can be evil like that ;))) Celebriníel would be around thirty now (very early teens in our reckoning), Elernil eight or so years older (middle to end teens), and Ereinion returned to Tirion to join the High Council when he was 200 (he's pretty grown up ;)). 

**Artanis**: I'm with you concerning the Council ;))

**Elarin**: You've hit a nerve with me even considering Gil-galad to be blond (if you consider him the son of Fingon, I mean ;))). History of Middle-earth, Volume 12, The Peoples of Middle-earth, Shibboleth of Fëanor:  
_"Fingolfin was his father's son, tall, dark, and proud, as were most of the Noldor [...]"_,   
and, a little further in the text, in a discussion about naming which I will not bore you with:   
_"In the case of Fingon [...] he wore his long dark hair in great plaits braided with gold."_,   
from which I think I can safely deduct Gil-galad was dark-haired as well.  
And Círdan and I do not go well together. He doesn't like me. ;)

**nuinred**: *bows* thank you!

**Gwilwileth**: thank you so much for saving me from the terrible typos! *hugs*

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**Chapter Fourteen    Past Resurfacing**

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Arriving before the gates of Tirion, the City's splendour waiting beyond, the four Elves halted and Ereinion looked at Elrond.

'You are certain?'

The dark-haired Elf-lord nodded, smiling. The horse beneath him seemed eager to continue, sensing his master's impatience.

'If I go into the city I will most likely be held up, and run the risk of missing them. I shall ride from here.'

Sitting forward in the saddle Glorfindel once more put forward the question he had posed several times before during their journey back from Oromë 's halls.

'Do you wish me to accompany you?'

Raising a hand, both to thank his friends as well as take his leave, Elrond shook his head.

'No need, I shall be quite all right on my own. _Navaer!'_

'Navaer, Elrond!' echoed the reply, swept up by the wind as the lonely rider began his journey further east, towards the sea. Elrond refused to think, to let anything but the road, the ride, his surroundings, occupy his mind.

And still, not much time could have passed, when he heard the sound of approaching hooves.

Not giving it much attention, there was nothing special about another traveller, he had passed several during the short period he had been on the road already, the exclamation which accompanied the nearing rider made him slow.

'Elrond! _Daro!'___

Surprised, Elrond slowed, to find Ereinion bringing his horse alongside his, having slowed down from a gallop. 

'I just thought... I wanted to thank you.' 

As the he stretched out his arm, Ereinion's eyes met Elrond's. Without hesitation the other caught it.

'Don't thank me. There is no need. Instead, I thank you,' Elrond smiled.

Bowing his head, Ereinion chuckled. Then he looked up again.

'Are you certain you do not wish to have company?'

'Very certain,' Elrond replied. 'Now be off you.'

Grinning, Ereinion gave a nod and complied, riding off_. Elrond watched, until he too, continued his journey._

--~~*~~--

Celebriníel kicked the sand as she gazed over the water. She wished she had a boat, perhaps even a sail, so she could be out there, if only for a little while. Here, she could only take a few steps into the grey wetness before she was forced to return. There would be silence out on the water, she thought. Disappointedly she waved at some Elves in boats, who returned the gesture merrily. Most likely they had come from one of the port-towns nearby. There seemed to be small harbour-towns aplenty here, northward upon the borders of the Sundering Seas.

She looked back, searching for the two lonely figures walking somewhere behind her, one with silver hair, one with dark.

_If Ada had been here, he would have taken me._

She could only remember one time she had been on water, when she had been with Ereinion and Elernil, long ago it seemed, even to her. Ereinion had taken them to where the small waterway met the larger one, and from there they had drifted along the stream in a simple wooden boat.

It had been exciting, and she recalled liking the motion of the water, the lapping of the waves against the sides of the craft. 

At Imloth, she often walked to the river with her parents, to throw sticks into the water on one side of the bridge, only to run to the other side and watch them drift by.

Once, Ada had helped her fold a fleet of paper ships, which they had drifted down the stream.

Thinking of that, it was all of a sudden, in the distance, that she could distinguish a tall figure, looking out over the sea, much as she had been doing just now. Without having to think much, she began running, for how could she not recognise him?

The wet sand near the shoreline made it easy to walk fast, and as her dress fluttered around her, she kept her eyes fixed on the Elf, his dark hair being tugged at by the wind, his eyes still staring, but not at the sea, she thought. He was staring beyond the sea.

'Ada, Ada, Ada!'

She was certain he would catch her in his arms, and he did, pressing her against him, her head against his shoulder. His clothing smelled of travel, but in a nice way. Of wind and forests.

'Suilad, Celebriníel,' she heard the well-known voice say, but something was not as it should be, though she could not be certain.

'Ada, what is the matter?'

He swallowed; she was close enough to feel it. Wriggling, she attempted to look up at him, but if there had been any sign of sadness, it had disappeared by the time she was able to observe his face.

'Nana said you would not come, that we would see you when returning to Tirion.' 

Elrond smiled broadly, watching her intently.

'Ah, but I thought I might come nevertheless, to see if you were behaving yourself. Have you been?'

'I wanted to go out in a boat, but Nana would not let me.' Celebriníel replied, fingering the collar of her father's tunic.

'Why would you want to go out?' he asked.

'I like the water,' she replied. Then she looked at him inquisitively. 'Ada, what is beyond the sea?'

Slowly he lowered her onto her feet again, and she placed her hand in his.

'If you go far enough,' he said, his eyes once again fixed on the horizon. 'There is land.'

'Do Elves live there?'

Celebriníel watched her father nod slowly.

'Yes,' he answered. 'But not as many as there once were.'

'Not as much as here?'

'I think not.'

'Did you ever go there?'

He smiled, finally looking at her.

'I was born there.'

'You were?' she asked, surprised. 'Like the people in the songs?'

'Songs?'

'I read songs about a place called Imladris, Nana likes them much, they were in one of her books. But when I tried to find it, to see where it was, Erestor said it was not on the map of Aman.'

Nodding slowly, Elrond smiled.

'Tell me about the songs.'

'One is about an Elven-lady who waits for her husband in the Gardens of Lórien, where Daeradar and Daernaneth dwell, I think he was an important Elven-lord. She sings about Imladris, and it sounded like a very nice place. I think her husband was the Lord there, like Finarfin is the Lord of Tirion.'

'Did she love him?' Elrond asked, his grip on her hand increasing. 'The Lady loved the Lord?'

He was aware of what the answer was, more than anything he was aware of in his life, but yet he asked. He had to ask. Somehow it suddenly needed to be confirmed, even if only by a young girl.

Celebriníel looked up at him.

'They share their dreams, and they kiss a lot, so I suppose... Have you ever been to Imladris?'

Her father was silent for a long while, but Celebriníel did not worry. Often he was preoccupied, but never did he forget her questions.

'Imladris was a very nice place. Summer always lingered in its gardens.'

Content, the elf-child smiled.

'Ada, do you think the Elven-lord joined the Lady?'

'Yes,' he said at once, and chuckled.

'Yes?' She had thought because of his questions, he had not known what it was she spoke of.

'And they were very happy, and they were given a little child, a girl.'

'Just like you and Nana?'

'Exactly like me and your Nana,' he laughed, and lifted her again. 'And the girl had silver hair, but never kept her braids. And she constantly asked questions.' 

'Did the Lord mind?'

'He did not,' Elrond smiled, kissing her forehead.

'What was the girl's name?'

'I do not remember.' __

'You always remember everything.'

'I do?' .

'Yes. '

'She was called Meluihên...'

'Ada...'

'Yes, my Celebriníel?'

'She cannot have been called Meluihên.'

'Why not?'

Celebriníel considered it for a moment.

'Do they call children that often?'

'Hmm, I do not know.'

'You know everything.'

'Perhaps she was not called meluihên all the time.'

'You are teasing me.'

He smiled.

'Yes, I am.'

'What was her name?'

'They named their daughter Celebriníel.'

With another kiss on her forehead he set her down and caught Celebrían's hand, for she and her companion had by now reached father and daughter. There was not a moment's hesitation before they embraced.

_I felt it, she told him, pulling back and fixing her eyes on his face._

_Worry not, he replied, before turning to the other Elven-lady._

'Suilad, Naneth.'

Elwing smiled and let herself be pulled into Elrond's firm embrace.

'Good to see you, ion-nîn.'

Celebriníel pulled her mother's hand.

'Nana, I told Ada of the songs of Imladris!'

Smiling, Celebrían placed her hand on her daughter's head. The other she extended to Elrond, who gratefully took it.

Looking from Celebrían to Celebriníel, Elwing extended her hand to her granddaughter.

'Come, Celebriníel, we shall walk on and see if we can find some provisions.'

'Can we eat them here on the beach, Daernaneth?' she asked. 'Please?'

'We can,' Elwing replied.

As the two walked off together, Celebrian looked at Elrond.

'You spoke to Ereinion?'

'I certainly did,' Elrond smiled, stepping closer, in need of the physical contact.

Rubbing her hand over his chest, she rested her head against his shoulder.

She had felt his thoughts very clearly, possibly already before Celebriníel had noticed her father stand by the shore. He had allowed her to, whether or not entirely conscious of it, which indicated he wished to speak of it.

'You were thinking of Arwen?' she queried, meeting his eyes.

Elrond swallowed. He had ridden here to be with the person who knew him better than anyone else, who was able to chase all his dark thoughts and qualms away... On the road, he had longed for her, forgetting what he was riding towards. As she was able to comfort him, the sea at the same time could increase many of his doubts.

He observed her for a moment, trying to give a look of not comprehending. Then he sighed, increasing the physical contact.

'Most of it has gone, the sadness, but the sea... Sometimes I hate it, for it always separates me from those I love. It continues to, it will until the end of Arda, even if she is no longer... And it _reminds me, Celebrían. It always reminds me...'_

Looking at him, she caught his hand.

He knew she was reminded of their eldest daughter often too. That she was even when only looking upon his face. But much of that sadness had passed, especially after the others had joined them on Aman. After they had been given Celebriníel.

Elrond rested his cheek against her forehead, glad when her arms slipped around his waist.

'And to think I was quite cheery riding up here.'

'Ereinion is well, then?'

Sighing contently and closing his eyes, Elrond nodded.

'I think I can venture to say Ereinion is quite well.'

Celebrían smiled.

'It seems quite like my husband to lift someone's gloom and then take it up himself.'

'Yes,' Elrond said softly.

Feeling him breathe out, Celebrian closed her eyes too.

Gently guiding her face up, he looked at her for a moment before kissing her, feeling the wind increase, pulling at their hair, neither of them caring. Celebrían withdrew, just enough to be able to whisper.

'I missed you, EI-nîn... Only mere days, and yet I longed for you to return more than ever.'

There was very little she could have said that would make him more contented at this moment.

He could not explain why it was he felt this way now. Perhaps it had been the conversation with Ereinion. It had uncovered many old hurts, and very possibly those had also caused same newer hurts to surface.

'I love you so much...' he whispered.

'I worried for you, after leaving Middle-earth,' Celebrían returned softly. 'I once told you that you would not lose everyone you loved. But when I heard of Arwen 's choice, I feared...'

Touching her face with his fingertips, Elrond shock his head.

'I knew you were waiting. Of all things I knew... You just... I...'

Embracing her tighter, he closed his eyes, trying to will the thoughts away.

'Do you wish to go, my love? Back to Tirion?' she asked him.

Withdrawing enough to watch her face, he shook his head once more.

'I am here now, as are you, and all is well. And I should be satisfied.'

Turning to the sea again, he let himself be caught by it once more.

It were Celebrían's fingers entwining with his that brought back his attention.

'It is allowed to not be content at times. But I am uncertain if it is discontent you feel. Perhaps mere moments of restlessness. Short moments in oceans of time.'

He nodded slowly, drawing her close another time.

'Does it fade?'

With a wry smile the Elven-lady rested her head against his shoulder, her eyes now fixed on the grey mass before them.

'It would not be the truth if I told you it ceases to exist entirely. But the passing of years reduces it. Sometimes I suspect it to be gone.'

'Ereinion said to me these are the things that shape us.'

'He can be wise when he wishes it.'

They stood silent a long while, until they both locked gazes and smiled.

_She's coming again..._

Elrond chuckled.

_Indeed..._

Turning to the direction into which the two figures had walked not long ago, they could see their daughter returning, no doubt to tell them to come and eat.

Celebriníel smiled broadly upon reaching them.

'Briníel!' Elrond returned her smile, catching her hand. 'How now, my princess?'

'You are coming?'

'Why would we not come, meluihên?' Celebrían asked as she stroked her daughter's hair and glanced at Elrond.

Celebriníel looked up at the both of them, very tall in comparison to her still small form.

'I think perhaps you wanted to be alone.'

'Just for a bit,' Elrond said, teasing his daughter. 'But you found us, did you not?'

The girl nodded, looking at her feet.

'When are we going home?'

As they began walking, Elrond looked at her.

'You mean Tirion? We shall leave tomorrow, as planned.'

'No,' Celebriníel shook her head. 'No, I mean Imloth.'  

'Hmm,' Elrond replied, looking at Celebrian. 'I think we are to stay in Tirion until spring, and then go back to Imloth.' 

'Why do you ask?' Celebrían continued, smiling at Elrond.

Celebriníel sighed.' 

'It's boring in Tirion.' 

'Boring?' Elrond laughed. 'It has been called many things, but boring?'

His daughter did not seem to like his response.

'At Imloth,' she tried to explain, 'you both have more time for me... In Tirion, you are always busy, and so many people come to Elrohir's house. And I am not allowed to go out alone.'

'I see,' Elrond said, looking down at her amusedly. 'We shall have to find a solution to that then.'

_--~~*~~--_

Ereinion descended the stairs alone, rather quickly, pulling his rich robes further around him.

He unnecessarily observed his feet, and felt some of his braids fall forward. Straightening his back again, he felt them fall back to his chest and he smiled at Elrohir, who stood waiting at the bottom of the flight of stairs.

As soon as the High Prince had reached the ground floor, the two elves continued together, their strides matching. 

On their way, many a waiting council member nodded, and Ereinion courteously returned the gesture, his grey eyes content, yet carefully assessing all they rested upon.

Finally arriving in the Council Chambers, there were some handshakes, polite exchanges of no real length.

As was usual, they were among the last to arrive, and did not have to wait long before the Council commenced.

One of the first to speak before the true debates would ring against the ancient marble walls, Ereinion stood before the assembly, gazing up from the paper before him, to see the council members watching intently.

'I do understand that some within this chamber would rather have me continue my observations of Council protocol a while longer...'

A murmur arose and Ereinion winked at Elrohir, who was seated near, also listening closely. If he looked on somewhat protectively, Elrond's son was also_ aware he could do nothing. Up here, Ereinion was on his own.  _

Ereinion's voice seemed remarkably clear as he continued.

'I might remind them, or I might not, that I was already leading councils such as this one when some were mere lads running around with wooden swords. But I shall not rob the Council of its precious time doing so...'

Grinning broadly, but not entirely expecting this kind of reply, Gildor looked at the High Prince, as around them some amused laughter rang out. Ereinion held his gaze, a small smile on his lips. Gildor gave him a nod and returned the smile. 

_So __this is when it changes... Ereinion thought._

'Indeed not,' he resumed seriously, returning to the papers before him. 'For we have many an important issue to discuss...'

_--~~*~~--_

Celebriníel sat in the window, arms around her knees, simply looking out.

Years later, she would sit in that same window, only not like this, but much more as was deemed proper for a lady.

But for now, she was merely a girl, no longer a child, but just over halfway to her maturity. 

A pair of arms encircled her from behind and she felt a kiss being placed on her head.

'Hello you.'

'Hullo,' she smiled, not breaking her eyes away from the window, but nevertheless leaning back into the embrace.

'You know Ada and Nana worry for you a little, do you not?' the Elf asked her, and she shrugged.

She was well aware Nana wanted her to make more friends, but it was hard when there were so few children around the house and gardens. And there was a side of her that wished they would not make such a fuss about it.

After Elladan and Aurehen had left for Imloth again, to take care of it while Ada was not present, there were few people left with whom she could play.

Elernil had little time now that his errantry for Ereinion began to become more important, and Ereinion was always busy, even though he came often to Elrohir's house, where she lived too.

Ada had the most time, but often he took her to the Halls where the High Council met, and even though she enjoyed going there, and listening to stories, it was not the same as when he would play hide and seek with her, or something similar. Nana would sometimes join them, but she and Mîrlinde were also often occupied.

'Now I spoke to Aurehen, you see,' the Elf continued, 'and until the time comes when you go back to Imloth, she believes there is someone who would very much like to play with you.'

Elrohir looked down at his sister, and met her clear blue eyes, which were shimmering just like their mother's could.

'Who?'

'Her younger brother.'

'When will he come?' she went on asking.

'He is already here,' Elrohir smiled, as he released her and stepped away, bringing a boy, most likely somewhat older than Celebriníel, a little taller, into view.

'Celebriníel, meet Arinmîr, Arinmîr, this is Celebriníel.'

Slipping off_ the window seat, Celebriníel stood face to face with Arinmîr, and two pairs of eyes thoughtfully observed each other._

He was dark-haired, as Aurehen was, but not by far as dark-haired as Ada and her brothers were. He gave her a small smile and she returned it, all of a sudden thinking of something to do.

'Suilad,' she grinned, and he mirrored the greeting.

'Suilad, Celebriníel.'

Then she walked past him, looking back to see if he would follow.

Arinmîr looked at Elrohir, who gave a consenting nod, and followed after, Celebriníel by now making her way down the hall. __

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

navaer: "farewell" (Sindarin form of Quenya "namárië" (invented/reconstructed by Ryszard Derdzinsk))

daro: "wait" (Sindarin)

suilad: "greetings" (Sindarin)

meluihên: "lovely-child", Celebriníel's mothername (sort of anyway)

ion-nîn: my son (Sindarin)

Arinmîr: morning jewel

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	16. Escapades

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: My thanks go to Fëarían for suggesting I should have a snowball fight!

Chocolate elfies for everyone and thanks for reviewing! Just picking out the questions this time, and bowing to the rest of you... *slipping those people a cookie*

**Earelen**: *dies giggling* We shall make Ereinion dictator of Rome! Uhm, Tirion... Yeeees... *ponders that amusedly*

**morchaint**: *gives extra chocolate elfies* ;))

**Jessica**: I think Celebrían definitely has the same melancholy moments as Elrond does concerning Arwen (though perhaps she is looking at it from a somewhat different perspective). There will be hints. ;)

**Mouse**: The history-lessons is a very interesting idea. Makes me wonder if there if there is such a thing as a formal education for young elves on Aman. (we know in the past there was the idea of apprenticeship.) I'll get back to you on that one. :)

**Finch**: Hmm, when I was eleven, I was very small... Maybe it's the Mary-Sue-thing sneaking in through Celebriníel. ;))

**Fiona Rayne**: Just so you know, Gil is happily wearing that crown now... *g*

**Elarin**: I think at a certain level the High Council is definitely a sort of pastime, but there are more important issues that are discussed. You'll hear more of it soon, I promise. :D

Oh, yes, I have a bit of a smut-warning for the end of the chapter. R-ish, I suppose (I'm bad with these ratings)  
It's indicated by a --~~*~~----~~*~~--, just so you know.

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Fifteen     Escapades **

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

'What are they doing now?' 

Elrond made to walk over to the railing, but Celebrían caught his hand.

'Stay, Master Peredhil. They will be fine.'

Biting his lower lip, Elrond's face betrayed he was not at all certain of the reliability of his wife's reassuring words. 

It had seemed a good idea, having Arinmîr around Celebriníel, but between the two of them they seemed to go on more adventures than Elladan and Elrohir ever had at the same age. 

What worried him were not exactly the adventures, but rather the broken fingers and arms that had accompanied them. Whereas he had always expected his sons to behave in such a fashion, after all, he and Elros had acted in a like manner, his daughter was a different matter altogether.

'Arwen was never like this.'

Laughing, Celebrían rose and pulled him along, away from the courtyard and into the house.

'Perhaps you were too busy at the time, but I can assure you Arwen was exactly like this. Did you forget that time when she and some of the other children of the house...'

'... the night-time swimming near the waterfall,' Elrond smiled. 'How could I forget?'

None of the adults in the house had had any idea of the nightly escapades of the younger inhabitants during the warmer of summer evenings. That was, until both the Lord and Lady of Imladris, on an innocent evening stroll, had spotted some small lights near the waterfall of the South Bruinen and had decided to inspect the occurrence, only to find near to seven elf-children merrily diving from rocks into the lukewarm spring, at a time when they were supposed to be wandering the fields of dreams. 

They had never confronted their daughter with their findings, but Elrond recalled always spending the time around which the children turned homeward seated on the balcony, hidden from view, making certain all was well.

'I still wonder how she never noticed we knew,' he mused. 'You would have expected them to be quieter if they wished to stay unobserved.'

'Yes.' Celebrían smiled, no doubt envisioning the same as he was.

The climax of those nightly wanderings had been when one of the elflings had accidentally plunged into the water and onto some rocks that had been too close to the surface. Not Arwen, but nevertheless enough to make her confess and promise not to go there again, while her friend got off with some fractured ribs and a very nasty cut.

'So you suggest I do nothing?' Elrond asked doubtfully.

'Well, for now, I do, yes.' Celebrían replied, squeezing his arm with a smile.

--~~*~~--

'Is he... Are they gone?'

Arinmîr looked up.

'I think your naneth pulled your adar away just now.'

Celebriníel caught his arm. 

'Good, come on.'

With quick paces they were out of the main gate of the house and onto the street. 

Once there, the silver-haired girl shot between some Elves passing by and Arinmîr followed, finding her waiting. 

'Where are we going?' he asked, knowing she had most likely planned something already.

'You'll see,' she smiled, before running off again. 

It being the last day of the week, Tirion was filled with people coming for the weekly market, and Celebriníel was headed straight into the centre of the activity. Arinmîr found her again at a stall with small chicks, one of the yellowish creatures softly squeaking as it sat in Celebriníel's hands. 

Apparently, it was not able to keep her attention very long, because the next moment she carefully placed the animal beside its friends again, only to run off once more. 

For a moment, Arinmîr feared he had lost her, for the street was easy to oversee and he did not see her anywhere. The next moment he heard a sudden 'Catch!', and was only just in time to seize a bright red apple that was moving towards him through the air. It was followed by Celebriníel running by and waving at the owner of the fruit-stand, calling a "thank-you" back as she carried three more apples, pressed against her upper body. 

And yet again, they continued their way through the crowd, through the streets. 

Before he knew it they stood before the entrance leading to one of the houses of the High Princes; Arinmîr recognised the sign in the metal framework of the gate. Looking in through the metal bars, Celebriníel seemed to wait a moment before smiling and turning.

'Hold the apples.'

Frowning, he did as she asked, and watched her put her fingers to her lips and whistle shrilly. Placing her hands on the bars again, she waited, her face attentive.

Then, from somewhere within either the house or the gardens, the whistle was returned, and she smiled, turning and taking the apples again. Motioning him to follow, they kept beside the high walls for some length, until finally they reached a small door, which looked as if it had not been used for years. 

Kicking it with a foot, the door soundlessly opened and Celebriníel entered, waiting for Arinmîr before pushing it shut again. 

They stood under a large tree, almost concealed by the shadows. It was almost as if they had left the soft murmur of market day behind them, had entered into a different world, because all that could be heard were birds, merrily chirping as if it were Laer and not the end of Firith. 

Celebriníel went first, following a path of stones, which ultimately led to a small stream. Stones were placed within it so that the other side could be reached without much effort. Skipping from one rock to the next, Celebriníel sounded a greeting and tossed up one of the fruits, which was caught by a dark-haired young Elf, who had the same smile as Celebriníel's father. He nodded at the both of them, seemingly waiting for their arrival. 

'Suilad nîth. You brought your friend?'

'Arinmîr,' Celebriníel smiled, as she poked the young Elf in the ribs.

'I know,' he grinned, half-heartedly trying to stop her poking. 'Aurehen's brother.'

Looking back at Arinmîr, Celebriníel rolled her eyes.

'You know Elernil, do you not? My _nephew_.'

Elernil glared at her, again in a fashion not unlike that of his grandfather, but the girl ignored him. Arinmîr only nodded.

'Is he coming?' Celebriníel enquired, walking on. 

'Who?' Arinmîr asked, not certain if he wished yet another stranger to join them. 

'Her friend,' Elernil smirked, before turning and following. 'But I know not if he will come.'

Leaving one of the remaining two apples on the white bench, Celebriníel tucked the other away in a pocket of her dress, and walked over to the house, against which an ivy had secured itself, all the way up to a balcony. Gazing up, Arinmîr observed the doors standing open wide. 

Testing a vine of the climbing evergreen briefly, she found her footing and the next moment was clambering up with un-ladylike agility. Elernil motioned Arinmîr to sit down, as he bit into his own apple. 

'She will return presently.'

'What if someone sees her?'

'The master of this house will not mind. Not at all.' came the reply. Arinmîr sat, a blush on his cheeks, watching Celebriníel place the apple on the stone barrier that served as the balcony railing.   

He was still uncertain if the High Prince living here would appreciate climbing onto balconies. Nervously he turned the apple in his hands, as he watched Celebriníel descend again, leaving the fruit shining in the sun.

The High Prince that lived in the house had heard the sharp whistle, knowing it announced the presence of the youngest silver lady of the House of Elrond. Indeed he had heard the whistle be returned, and for a moment considered leaving his work, some annotations on a conversation with his father earlier in the morning about the amount of apprentices a craftsman was allowed to keep. 

But for some reason he had not. He had not descended into the gardens as was often the case. It was not the first time he had decided not to come down, and Celebriníel, if she even came to visit him and not Elernil, seemed to understand. 

And still, somehow, the paper had not been able to keep his attention much longer after that.

He had imagined her entering through the small backdoor, crossing the stream and continuing into the gardens, possibly bringing something. She always seemed to bring something.

Turning his chair, stretching out his legs languidly, he had observed the balcony, looking out on the sky above, and some higher branches of nearby trees. He had not been left waiting long for the small hand to deposit the apple on the edge of the balustrade. 

Waiting a while, watching the red skin of the apple reflect the sun, he could not help but smile. 

And then he had risen and stepped onto the balcony, picked up the object and clasped it in a hand as he too, descended via the ivy. 

Celebriníel sat on the bench, her back towards him as he neared, and he moved some hair away before bending down and bringing his lips close to her ear.

'Thank you, princess.' 

She looked up at him, a glimmer in her eyes. 

'So you decided to come?'

'Whether I eat your present here or in my study matters little. It seemed more social here, so my choice was swiftly made.' He winked at Arinmîr, who stared at him, somewhat taken aback. 

Elernil left the bench to make room and dropped onto the grass beside the other young Elf, giving him a encouraging poke. 

Sitting down, Ereinion collected a flick knife from his pocket and crossed his legs, resting his apple on his knee as he silently asked for Celebriníel's apple, which she had not touched. 

'Peel it, or not?'

She handed it to him.

'Not.'

With a confident movement he cut it in half, resting one part on his other knee, and slicing the second piece once more. Removing the core, he returned the parts, first one, then the other, to Celebriníel. The two small central parts he threw onto the grass a little further away, and immediately birds came to collect it, pecking at it readily.   

Smiling, Celebriníel bit into her slice of apple and looked at Ereinion.

'Story?'

Having turned to slicing his own apple, Ereinion narrowed his brow. 

'Tell me which one.'

'Battle story.' Elernil grinned. 

Ereinion squinted at him. 

'On such a beautiful day?'

'Something about music.' Celebriníel smiled. 

'Hmm, yes,' Ereinion nodded thoughtfully. 'Perhaps... Yes.' He smiled.

'Do you know the small streets, in the oldest part of Tirion?'

'South-side.' Elernil nodded. He had been there often on errantry, for many of the old families still lived there.

'Well, by the water, long ago, lay the workshop of a craftsman, a builder of instruments.'

He watched the three younger Elves look at him, even Elernil attentive, apparently having never heard the story before. The High Prince smiled, and continued. 

'His home had only two doors, one leading to a narrow but busy street, the other to a peaceful garden, not much larger than an average room.'

He removed the core from the remaining pieces of Celebriníel's apple. 

'Once, there had been a tree in this garden, but during a bitter winter it had died. Perhaps its time had arrived, in any case, the ways of Ilúvatar often seem incomprehensible.'

Ereinion handed the pieces of apple to Celebriníel, who eagerly accepted them. 

'Much disappointed, for he had greatly enjoyed the singing of the birds in the branches of the tree, the craftsman had taken down the tree, very carefully so the little garden would not be damaged. Removing the branches, he had split the trunk in the direction of the graining, before putting the wood in a far corner of his house. Years passed, and it is told the craftsman only left his workshop to get turpentine, sandarac and dragon blood, from which he made the special varnish for his instruments.'  

'Long, the wood waited in the corner, and the craftsman forgot about it. But one day, he accidentally came across it and judged the wood old enough. From this wood, he resolved to make the most perfect instrument that would ever come out of his hands.' 

'Many seasons did he work on it, his hands coveting the wood in silence, polishing it until the last rough spot had disappeared. It was after Rhîw, just before the celebrations of Ethuil would begin, that the instrument was finished at last.'

'From his workshop, the craftsman looked at the celebrating people with a smile, and said softly to himself: "Will there be one player among them that can make my harp sing?"'

'As the celebrations got underway, a young musician came into the workshop, the youngest son of an important Lord. He wore beautiful clothes, especially made for the celebrations. His skill with the harp was renowned, and with him came beautiful ladies as well as countless lords, his friends. He walked through the shop and gazed upon the many instruments. 

'When he let his fingers brush against the strings of the harp, the craftsman warned him: the harp had magic power and was made from special wood; only then, when the instrument was handled by determined fingers, if it was moved by a talented heart, only then would its music sound.'

'The lord was insulted and grabbed the harp. But the instrument refused. It only produced disharmonious sounds. He persisted, but after a while his friends had enough. The beautiful ladies left. The craftsman left his work-shop. 

'The musician removed his beautiful clothing, left only in a simply tunic and trousers. Then, and only then, alone, surrounded by silence, with a heart full of trepidation, distress and loneliness, the lord took the harp to hand, forgetting his name, his weariness.'

'It was early in the morning that the craftsman heard a melody, strangely familiar. Deeply touched he looked through the window into the garden. There he saw the young musician, playing the harp, without strain and very natural. From the stump in the middle of the garden, which once held the trunk from which the harp had been made, now grew strong, new branches. They moved, very unhurried on the breeze and on the elegant branches birds settled as if they had never been gone.'

Biting down in one of his own four pieces of apple, Ereinion smiled. 

'Satisfied?'

'Yes!' Celebriníel grinned, snatching away another part of the High Prince's fruit. 'Good story.'

'I am glad,' Ereinion smiled. 'But I suggest you run back to your brother's house now, or your parents shall worry. And I will go back to work.' He threw the other two left-over parts of apple to Elernil and Arinmîr as he rose and pocketed his knife again. 

Observing the ivy for a moment, he decided against ascent that way and entered the house, disappearing from view.

Leaving the bench, Celebriníel smiled and helped Arinmîr up, looking down at Elernil, who was munching. 

'See you tonight?'

'At dinner, certainly.'

'Good.'

The next moment, the elflings were off again. Elernil smiled, and stayed in the sun a while before returning to his duties as well. 

Gazing up at the sky before entering he shook his head.

It would only be a few days before this season would end. In a matter of weeks, there would be snow, he predicted. There would most certainly be. 

And that would be fun, he mused. It always was. 

--~~*~~--

'Look out!'

Ereinion turned as he heard the warning, but even as he started a quick evading movement it was already too late. 

The snowball hit him against the side of the neck, some of the pieces slipping into his tunic, the cold substance making him hiss in surprise. 

Both Celebriníel and Arinmîr doubled over giggling, as Elernil stood nearby, evidently the intended target of the projectile. 

'Next time yell "duck"...' Ereinion mumbled, as he tried to remove the snow from inside his clothing. For a moment he regretted taking off the afternoon and coming to Elrohir's house. 

Then he saw Glorfindel too, hand covering his mouth to keep from bursting out into a fit of laughter.

'That is it,' he said, brushing off his shoulders. 'No more playing.'

Bending down he collected some snow, moulding it between his hands, and with a quick movement hurled it into Glorfindel's direction, already bending for the next hand of snow. 

Temporarily occupied with his mirth, the golden-haired Elf was too giddy to make even the slightest attempt to dodge the projectile and it therefore hit him precisely in the centre of the chest.

Surprised, eyes wide, he looked at Ereinion, then to the two children next to him, who were by now laughing even louder, and scurrying away to flee the wrath of the Elf-lord that would no doubt soon follow.

Arinmîr saw a chance to launch yet another snowball at Glorfindel, before running off as fast as his legs could carry him, into the direction Celebriníel took, towards Ereinion and Elernil, who had unmistakably allied themselves against Glorfindel. 

Now very much alert to the objects flying into his direction, Glorfindel ducked to collect himself ammunition too. 

With a quick movement he near-caught Arinmîr's snowball, but it disintegrated into powder as it met his hand.

Not letting it bother him, Glorfindel used the little snow that stuck to his hand to add to his own snowball and hurled it towards the four Elves, expecting to hit at least one of them.

Ereinion sounded a warning and the group dispersed, in time to avoid the first snowball, but not the second, clearly meant for the High Prince.

Squeals of the delight sounded from the younger Elves as it hit Ereinion against the back. 

Meanwhile Elernil had taken advantage of Glorfindel's distraction as the Elf-lord had watched the snowball reach its target, and now tossed up his own snowball, seeing it fly high and then promptly hit Glorfindel half on the head and half on the shoulder. 

At the same time Ereinion had sent off more projectiles into Glorfindel's direction. Celebriníel and Arinmîr stood mostly observing, their faces red with excitement, running away laughing if a snowball came too near.

Elrond and Celebrían watched on from one of the higher galleries as the snowy battle proceeded down in the courtyard below. With a smile on his face, Elrond looked at Celebrían and threw off his outer robes, giving them into his wife's care. 

Raising an eyebrow she watched him descend a nearby stairway, as Glorfindel meanwhile seemed near defeat, being attacked by mostly all other participants.

Celebriníel ran up to Ereinion and grinned broadly. 

'We win?'

With a smile, Ereinion looked back at her. 

'Of course you win,' he said, and then suddenly felt the collar of his tunic being pulled away and a load of snow inserted into the space created. 

'Aaah,' he exclaimed, arching his back and immediately attempting to release the cold from between the clothing and his skin. At the same time he turned to find Elrond, smiling innocently. 

'You would better run, Peredhel, for I shall not act lightly once I...'

'What?' Elrond grinned, before indeed making a hasty retreat. 

But Ereinion, forgetting the icy cold that still occupied his tunic momentarily, had already lunged for his friend's legs. 

Elrond could do nothing but be wrestled down, but had not expected his daughter to enter into the jest, as hands began rubbing snow against his face and neck. 

'Briníel! No!' he laughed, trying to protect himself, not being very successful as Elernil too, joined in the assault. 

Glorfindel, his face red from the similar cold treatment it had been given not moments ago, helped Ereinion up as they watched Arinmîr stuff snow down Elernil's shirt, Elrond trying to tickle Celebriníel into surrender. 

'I like winter,' the golden-haired Elf-lord smiled, and Ereinion nodded, eyes glimmering.

'Tis a most wonderful season,' he agreed, slapping Glorfindel on the back and edging away as the Elf-lord discovered yet another cold wet mark had been created on his clothing. 

As Glorfindel gave chase to Ereinion, Celebrían ventured into the gardens, perhaps too ethereal to be too much of a target for anyone. Elernil, shrugging off his assailant, came towards her and caught her hand, pressing a kiss against her cheek before following the two Elf-lords, Arinmîr in tow. 

Celebriníel broke free of her father's hold and ran towards her mother.

'I can stay outside?'

Celebrían smiled.

'Be off then.'

She watched her daughter dash off, and then turned to her husband, who lay stretched out in the snow, his face bright, possibly because of the beaming smile on it. Shaking her head she offered a hand to help him rise.

'How cold you are, Master Peredhil,' she chuckled, as she took his icy hand in her warm one. 

'I feel quite heated,' he replied, allowing her to beat the remaining snow off his back, knowing she lingered longer than necessary. 

'Perhaps you were hit against the head too hard with a handful of snow,' she commented teasingly.

Not giving her an answer he pulled her close to kiss her, but at the same moment became aware of the increasing silence around the courtyard suddenly. 

Looking over his shoulder cautiously, both he and Celebrían found the others watching, looking too innocent for comfort.

'I believe now might be a very good moment to edge away, meleth-nîn.'

Laughing, they both stepped back before swiftly starting their retreat toward the stairway, trying to flee the avalanche of snow directed after them, succeeding admirably.

Once up the stairs, Celebrían felt a twist of excitement in her abdomen, as Elrond leant over the railing.

'No warm drinks for you!' he called down, receiving another snowball as a reply. He dodged it only barely, and sent a glare down. 

'What makes you think we make exceptions for High Princes?'

Pulling him back by the tunic, Celebrían placed her arm around him, looking down as well, as Ereinion had now made himself the main target of the group. 

'Winter is a most wonderful season indeed,' she whispered with a smile.

'But cold,' Elrond said, blowing into his hands. 'Will you warm me up, Lady?'

'I could fetch you a nice hot drink, draw you a bath... Or would you prefer... other methods?' she asked innocently, as she leant against him.

'Other methods?' Elrond smiled, as he turned and leant against railing. 'Well, if you believe they would warm me up...'

Celebrían caught one of his hands and glanced up at him, pressing her lips against his fingers.

'I believe they could be very successful.'

Slowly she kissed him, lips meeting only very lightly, her free hand on his side before slipping down, resting on his hip before starting a less straight movement a little further down. 

'I suddenly suspect... they would indeed be very successful,' Elrond whispered hoarsely, as Celebrían's lips wandered down, pressing kisses against his cheekbone, her hands not idle either. 

'This is a very sudden discovery, my Lord?'

'Yes... Very...' he said slowly, closing his eyes as he indeed felt the warmth flood back into his body, though perhaps "heat" would be a better term. 

'Hmm, I assumed something of the like.' 

With a small smile Celebrían caught his hand and Elrond allowed her to lead him into the house. 

--~~*~~----~~*~~--

Garments were exchanged for kisses, slowly, unhurriedly. 

The tips of his fingers were still cold, as was his face, but slowly, very slowly, the heat began to travel from only specific body parts to the rest of his flesh as well. 

Pressing her lips against his ear, Celebrían chuckled and began whispering, wooing him into that delightful state of mind and body in which nothing mattered, where everything was peaceful, and time did not exist. 

He guided her back onto the bed, and they lay there for a while, simply enjoying the whispers, gentle touches upon mind and flesh, limbs entwined. 

Neither could be certain how precisely the next stage of lovemaking was initiated, but it was, and kisses became more heated, deeper, bodies were pressed closer, in anticipation of more corporal pleasures to come. 

With a satisfied sigh, Elrond finally gave in as Celebrían placed a leg over his hip and pressed closer. They exchanged soft kisses as he allowed his hand to travel from her back to her thigh, softly caressing, before completing their union. 

Smiling, he stroked the silver hair that fell over the arm he had placed around her, never taking his eyes of her enraptured face, her eyes lightly closed, biting her lower lip as her body reacted to his. 

His own heart pounded in his veins, and yet he was slow in all of his movements, prolonging, enjoying, knowing there was no need to rush. As long as he was with her, there would never be need to rush again... 

Celebrían sighed contently and pulled him along as she rolled onto her back. 

Arching her spine slightly as her husband sought a new position, she felt one of his arms slip underneath her, holding her closer as he supported his weight with the other. Out of habit she pressed her thighs against his sides, as hot lips began to explore her neck.

It was hard to imagine there had been moments when she feared he would find another, when she had been here, on Aman, and he still there, in Middle-earth. That somehow his heart, which she knew very well was bound to her, had been bound to her for over an Age, would perhaps beat for another, that time and distance would sever their connection. Those had been short moments, and only few in number, but she remembered them nonetheless.

Childish insecurities they now seemed, she smiled, and as she looked up, she found Elrond return both gaze and expression, before bending down to kiss her. 

Perhaps there would be a time when these more carnal pleasures would not be of importance anymore. A time when body and spirit were no longer two separate things, but more or less one. For now, they were not, and she was glad for it. 

Countless kisses had they shared over the years, of many different kinds, some much resembling the one before, or a kiss before that. And yet it appeared there was never sufficient breath to satisfy desire, never enough to continue as long as they pleased. 

Celebrían rested a hand on Elrond's face as he withdrew from the merging of lips. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips against the palm, his movements unwavering, though undeniably nearing the point they were working towards together. 

Listening to his breathing becoming more apparent, deeper, it did not surprise Celebrían when she noticed hers did the same, jointly sustaining the fire within, making it surge yet again. 

When their eyes met once more, his had grown dark, as they always did in moments of passion. 

Groaning hoarsely, Elrond rested his forehead against her shoulder, not ceasing his tenders, not withdrawing the arm which still lay underneath her, his fingers on her flesh, even now slightly raising her. 

_All I need... _he told her. _Is you alone..._

Clasping his back she pushed upwards, as he returned the pressure, the embrace causing them to reach what they had wished to. Another open-mouthed kiss partially smothered moans of pleasure, while ardour was spent.  

Welcomed in Celebrían's arms, Elrond settled against her closely, then looked up to meet her gaze. 

She stretched a hand and let the tips of her fingers gently wander over one of his reddened cheeks. 

'Warm again, El-nîn?'

Grinning broadly he nodded, then rested an arm around her and pressed his lips against her neck. 

'I am somewhat disappointed though.'

Attentively following the edge of his ear, Celebrían frowned.

'Disappointed herven? Of what, exactly?'

Chuckling, Elrond brought his lips close to her ear. 

'That we do not have snow all year round.' 

--~~*~~----~~*~~--

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Laer: (Sindarin) summer

Firith: (Sindarin) autumn

Rhîw: (Sindarin) winter

Ethuil: (Sindarin) spring

nîth: youth 

the story Ereinion tells is loosely adapted from a wonderful children's book "Le Luthier de Venise" (translated as "The Voice of the Wood" in English) by Claude Clément. I merely butchered it a bit and changed the cello of the original story to a harp. My heartfelt apologies to Mr. Clément.

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	17. Departing and Arriving

**High Princes of Tirion**  
by Nemis

A/N: Well, that took quite a while. Apparently it is difficult for me to write with a backache, because some versions of this chapter were absolutely ... well, not good, anyway. Maybe it's because there's very little left to say about this period in time (I'll be moving on a bit with the next chapter, I suppose). 

There is still something about this chapter I'm not really happy with, but it's sort of a feeling, and not a certain point I can precisely put my finger on. Oh well ... 

I want to thank everyone who reviewed last time, *hands out chocolate elfies*, and my mother *hugs* and Kalurien especially for reading all those versions and telling me what was wrong with them. (and poking me to write Elladan & Aurehen ;))

**Fiona Rayne**: He says he's refusing to wear the sceptre. Something about us not appreciating him enough ...

**Elarin: **You're probably right about the over-population, if you look at it from a more practical point of view. On the other hand, would it be possible for heaven to be "full"? (I'm answering questions with questions, blame my teachers ;)) 

**Ilmare**: There is someone I'm thinking of letting return, but my muse is telling me to be very careful (he seems to know the guy). And I always got the impression Fëanor was not going to return from Mandos (and if he was, that he was going to be one of the last elves to return), so I'm not going there at the moment. ;))

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**Chapter Sixteen     Departing and Arriving**

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It was nearing the hour of midday, and the small group of elves stood waiting just outside the small building which served as stables. No one was engaging in last minute talking, apparently there was nothing that needed final discussion. 

After yet another examination of the courtyard and its surroundings, Elrond looked at Celebrían. His wife returned a lenient look as she stood by her horse, reaching up to scratch the animal absently behind the ears. With a shake of the head Elrond turned to Glorfindel, who smiled. 

'She will come.'

Frowning, the dark-haired Elf-lord took some steps forward and scanned their surroundings again. He sighed quietly.

'If she wanted to go back to Imloth so badly, you would expect her to be here when we leave.'

Elrohir came walking up, Elernil and Arinmîr at his side, the latter dressed for riding. Again Elrond turned to Celebrían. He had somehow expected either Elernil or Arinmîr to be with his daughter, and was somewhat surprised seeing both young elves here. It meant wherever Celebriníel had gone, she was most likely alone. 

Celebrían left the horse, and neared Elrond to place a comforting hand on his arm.

'Give her time, El-nîn.'

He smiled weakly.

'It is not as if we can leave without her.'

Tilting her head, Celebriníel watched a bird come down from the higher branches of the nearby tree to collect some of the crumbs she had left there. She smiled as it tilted its head too and observed her as well.

'Suilad, fileg.'

It twittered shortly, and Celebriníel chuckled. 

'Promise to sing here often while I am away?'

The bird looked at her, before it hopped to the edge of the stone and flew off again, returning to the tree and disappearing in the leafage. 

Ereinion rested a hand against the frame of the balcony doors. He had finished what he had been working on, and before going on to the next document that needed his attention, decided to check up on the girl that had decided to sit on his balcony over an hour ago. 

Her arrival he had noticed, he did not think she had been especially careful to hide it from him, but she had not entered, had not spoken. Only now did he realise she was not supposed to be here. 

His voice was gentle, almost soft as he spoke.

'I sincerely doubt your father will appreciate it when he learns you are seated on my balcony. Especially while he was so adamant to leave for Imloth.'

She looked at him.

'I wondered if you could not come with us? Even if only for a little while?'

The High Prince smiled, stepping onto the balcony, nearing the railing on which the girl was seated.

'I promised I would come, only I cannot at present. Do you not trust my word?'

Celebriníel looked up at him.

'I cannot explain it. It just seems we shall not be seeing you soon if you do not come with us now.'

Raising an eyebrow Ereinion sat down on the stone. 

'And you plan to sit here until I come?'

With a chuckle Celebriníel shook her head. 

'Not really.' She slid off the stone and nodded. 'I shall go now.'

'Good,' he said, rising as well, trying not to let a broader smile slip over his lips due to her seriousness.

'I shall accompany you back.'

They went inside, walking out of the study and down the stairs, departing the house through the front gate. It seemed strange, somehow. Not like it had been before. Looking back, Celebriníel smiled at the house, before bringing her gaze forward again, seeing the white walls and terraces of the City of Tirion reflect the sun. 

Ereinion walked beside her, deep in thought. He had surprised himself with his reaction to Elrond's leaving. He would miss them all, but at this point he had enough tasks to busy himself, sufficient pursuits to keep him occupied. And yet, there were no more elflings to gather in his gardens, there was no more fruit to be placed on his balcony. 

He shrugged. Imloth was not two hours away. He could go if he so pleased. 

Somehow he was able to do now what he had not been able to previously, when he had loathed to come to Tirion. Let go. 

Not noticing the tall green hedges which made up the entrance of the house that was their destination, the High Prince was surprised to find himself nearing the stables, discerning Elrond, hands behind his back, observing them. 

Celebriníel caught his arm for a moment and smiled.

'Thank you for bringing me.'

He nodded as he returned her smile.

'My pleasure, Briníel.'

She sped away, slowing only as she neared her father, placing an apologetic hand on his arm, making him smile as well. Continuing on, she disappeared into the stables, no doubt to find her own horse. 

'We had expected you to come sooner,' Elrond called to Ereinion. 'But I suspect you were caught up in matters of importance.'

They both grinned. Ereinion took on an air of played sincerity. 

'I suspect it is fortunate I came at all. Your daughter reminded me of your departure, or I would have most likely only remembered after you had already left.'

Elrond nodded, playing along.

'We are fortunate indeed.'

It took only a moment before they both chuckled. At the same time Celebriníel came out of the stables again, leading a horse. 

After embracing shortly, Elrond shook his head at Ereinion.

'Only two hours away.'

Still chuckling, Ereinion caught Celebrían's outstretched hand, embracing her tightly, though he still addressed Elrond.

'I am aware of it. I do know.'

Pulling away, but resting a hand on his upper arm, Celebrían smiled.

'We shall expect you to come in the not too distant future.'

Giving a short nod of the head, Ereinion laughed.

'Then I shall _have_ to come.'

--~~*~~--

Elladan pressed a light kiss against the Elf-lady's temple, and she smiled, keeping her eyes firmly closed. 

'Be you gone, if you intend to rouse me from this pleasant slumber.'

He chuckled and ran his fingers through the soft hair at her temple, bringing her face to meet his. 

'Ah, lady, pretend I am a mere fabrication of your mind, come to brighten your dreams.'

Tenderly he kissed her, and she smiled, pressing closer to him, resting an arm around his chest. 

'If you were but that, I would never wish to wake.'

Moving his fingers through her hair, he was careful not to untangle the plaits he had personally woven into some tresses of her hair earlier. With a content sigh, Aurehen pressed her forehead against his chest, fully intending to doze further. 

'I wonder if all shall change now that they are returning.'

With a groan Aurehen buried her face against him. 

'Must you always compel me to face the present?'

Smiling, Elladan traced her side with the tips of his fingers, feeling her press her lips against his skin. 

'Well, unless you wish to greet everyone from here, I think we must face the present, sooner rather than later.'

'How long until midday?'

'It is long past midday, meleth-nîn.'

'And when will they arrive?'

'Around two hours past midday.' 

Sighing overdramatically, Aurehen turned unto her back.

'Very well. If rise we must ...'

'Hmm,' Elladan mused. 'Perchance we do not have to rise right away...'

Laughing, Aurehen looked at him.

'You have something in mind, 'adan?' 

Shifting closer, he smiled, pressing his lips against her neck.

'I just might.'

Elladan took some quick paces and ascended the steps, joining Aurehen who stood waiting for him, fastening a last catch of her dress.

With a grin he placed an arm around her waist and nodded.

'They have arrived.'

However much the couple had enjoyed the time together, without the entire household around them, they were both happy to see the rest of the family return to Imloth. 

The period spent in Tirion had not been excessively long, but nevertheless, perhaps because of the previous years in which everyone had lived together, it seemed high time that they returned home now. 

A happy shout sounded, and a silver flash came towards them, followed by a darker one. 

Aurehen laughed as both Celebriníel and Arinmîr ran up to embrace her.

'Well, I am glad to see you two are getting along,' she remarked. 

'A little too well, I sometimes fear,' Elrond replied as he and Celebrían ascended the stairs as well. Elladan greeted his parents enthusiastically as Aurehen looked at her brother.

'So you will continue your studies here?'

Arinmîr nodded. 

'And when I have learned enough, I will return to the City.'

Elladan grinned.  

'You'll have to read all the books in the library first, though.'

'Perhaps we can freshen up and have something to eat first,' Elrond proposed, continuing on, eager to settle into his normal routines again. 

--~~*~~--

His eyes closed, Elrond leant against the railing, feeling the wind toy with his hair, the scent of something sweet, he was uncertain what exactly, being blown up from the gardens. 

There was no need to open his eyes to know his eldest son was sitting close by, together with Aurehen. Erestor stood near too, also silent. They had been speaking, but the conversation had halted, and now all were simply enjoying the breeze, exceptionally warm for early spring. The next moment a hand was placed on his stomach, but it did not startle him. 

A cheek rested against his shoulder and Celebrían looked out over the garden towards which he had his back turned. Somewhere below, their daughter was no doubt planning a great adventure, but he told himself not to worry. 

'So when will Glorfindel return?' Elladan asked. 'Or is this restricted information?'

Celebrían turned and smiled.

'I suspect as soon as his affairs allow him to.'

'Or when Anariel allows him to,' Elrond added, still keeping his eyes closed. 

Aurehen chuckled. 

'Is it truly that serious?'

'Who can say, really?' Elrond replied, opening an eye. 'Glorfindel can be very particular.'

Shaking her head, Celebrían's smile broadened.

'Glorfindel would not be anywhere he does not wish to be.'

'But he will return?'

With a nod, Elrond smiled. 

'He said he would. As soon as he had ascertained Ereinion was doing well on his own.'

--~~*~~--

'Have you finished your lessons yet?'

Celebriníel grimaced at her mother, who was seated behind her father's desk, some of the old manuscripts she liked so much lying in front of her. 

'I was looking for Erestor. I need help finding some specific maps.'

Celebrían nodded, putting aside whatever it had been she had been concentrating on.

'Perhaps I can help you in his stead. What were you looking for?'

For a moment, the younger of the two silver-haired ladies seemed uncomfortable. Then she neared her mother and leant against the desk, much as she would when her father would sit there. 

'Gondor and Arnor.'

There was nothing on her mother's face that betrayed that there was anything wrong with searching for maps which had these places on them. But she did not immediately rise to help and try to find them. Instead she looked at her daughter for a moment longer, and then collected a bound book from one of the desk's drawers.

Opening it halfway through, it revealed a foldout map, and Celebrían motioned Celebriníel closer. 

'You know where to seek?' she asked, folding the entire plan out on the desk.

With a shake of the head Celebriníel smiled. 

'Not precisely. That is why I wished to know.'

Celebrían chuckled. 

'What _can_ you find?'

Following a central mountain-ridge northwards with her finger, Celebriníel ended up at a place where two rivers joined and became one. 

'Imladris.'

Then she pointed at the coast.

'Lindon, Mithlond.'

Celebrían nodded.

'Can you find Lórien?' 

Again a confident finger found the correct position. 

'Arnor was here,' Celebrían said, hovering her hand over the area between the Ered Luin and Hithaeglir. 'I travelled through it quite often, both with my parents as well as with your father. But it was divided into three parts at a certain moment, before it was lost almost entirely. Gondor proved to be more continual.' She indicated the area which lay on the bay of Belfalas. 

'Did you ever go there?'

'I did,' Celebrían smiled. 'For the first time long before it would be called Gondor. I lived there for a while.'

'And after?'

'A few times. With your Adar.'

Celebriníel stared at the map a moment, then looked back at her mother.

'And then Gondor and Arnor were united.'

'They were,' Celebrían confirmed, sitting back with a smile. 'Though I do not think it was done as easily as you make it sound.'

'True. I read the story.'

Again an almost unnoticeable hesitation, but Celebrían caught it nevertheless. Celebriníel looked at her. 

'I read about Arwen.'

Nodding, Celebrían smiled.

'I suspected you might have.'

_Thank the Lady you came to me, meluihên ... For I cannot predict how your father would have reacted on this conversation. _

Elrond was on the verge of entering the study, Erestor beside him, when noticing Celebrían and Celebriníel, deep in conversation. 

Placing a hand on his friend's arm, they both halted and looked on.

His wife was seated, a hand thoughtfully under her chin, elbow on the armrest of the chair, while their youngest daughter leant against the desk. His heart jumped as he heard the youngest of the two speak.

'But why would she stay in Middle-earth? If she knew it would mean death?'

Slowly, Celebrían reached for Celebriníel's hand. 

'She would have come, had she not loved someone in Middle-earth. Cherished him more than life itself. A person who could not join her here on Aman.'

'Aragorn Ellessar?'

Celebrían nodded thoughtfully. 

'Yes.'

'You did not know him. I read ... You were already here.'

Squeezing her daughter's hand, Celebrían confirmed the statement. 

'I was, my sweet. But I know she loved him. I felt she did, somehow.'

Locking her eyes on her hand which rested comfortably in her mother's, Celebriníel continued quietly. 

'If you had stayed, would she still have married him, you think?'

In the doorway, Erestor felt the Elf beside him clutch his sleeve. With a comforting movement he placed his hand on Elrond's shoulder. Celebriníel had touched upon the subject, though only vaguely, with him a few times now, and he had more or less immediately informed Celebrían this conversation was certain to come. 

If she did at all, Celebrían hesitated only shortly, even if she heard Elrond's mental whisper of her name. Sitting forward, she caught both her daughter's hands.

'Ilúvatar alone knows what would have happened had I stayed. All could have gone very differently. But the past matters little, meluihên, and I think you should not worry yourself too much concerning it. It cannot be changed.' 

With a smile she moved some of Celebriníel's hair back.

'There will come a time when you fall in love, and I suspect you will understand.'

Nodding, Celebriníel stepped closer to embrace her mother, and Celebrían rested her head against her daughter, who in turn rested her head on her mother's. Closing her eyes for a moment, Celebrían sent a silent expression of comfort to her husband. 

'Did you feel so terrible you had to leave Middle-earth?' she heard her daughter whisper, almost at the same moment. 

Withdrawing a little, she nodded. 

'Your Adar allowed me to go. He knew there was no happiness left for me there. I had to heal here.'

'Why did he not go with you immediately?'

Celebrían smiled, never avoiding her daughter's serious eyes. 

'He made a promise, a long time ago, and felt it his duty to bring those matters to a close first.' 

Gently she touched Celebriníel's face.

It was understandable there were such questions, and she would gladly answer them all. But preferably not with Elrond standing in the doorway. Celebriníel finally seemed to notice the two others as well. She nodded.

'I shall go on with my studies now.'

Smiling, Celebrían let her go and watched her walk over to Erestor, smiling up at her father and catching his hand for a moment before leaving the study. 

Elrond finally crossed the threshold, after Celebriníel and Erestor had left for the adjoining library. Celebrían smiled as he neared. Catching the hand she offered he shook his head. 

'I ... I am thankful you were the one who had to deal with that question.'

Allowing him to pull her up and against him, she smiled, pressing her face into the folds of his clothing, enveloped by his arms.

'The next question shall be yours to answer though,' she whispered. 'And I suspect it will have something to do with the grammatical structure of Quenya.' 

Elrond smiled.

'Even though I am not the linguist of the family, I think I shall be quite able to answer any such questions. Though you would be better able to explain them to her.'

Celebrían looked up at him. 

'We could help her together.'

He nodded.

'I would like that.' 

'Well good,' she smiled.

Gazing down as he took her hands in his, Elrond shook his head once. 

'I apologise for not coming with you then.'

Bringing up one of his hands she pressed her lips against his fingers.

'You are here, now. That is the only thing that matters. And I know well how close you came to joining me.'

With a chuckle, Elrond nodded, moving his face towards hers. 

'Very close.'

Throwing her arms around his neck she smiled. 

'Yes ...'

'I love you,' he whispered, just before meeting her lips for a kiss.

_And I love you ..._

--~~*~~--

It was as he replied to Celebriníel, engaging in a word game, requiring answers and replies to and fro, that Elrond's eye caught a small group of riders on the road further away. He smiled.

'I think we might have guests ...'

For a moment considering it part of the game, Celebriníel frowned, then followed the direction her father was staring into. Both tried to distinguish the riders for a moment, but she was the first to recognise them.

'Daeradar and Daernaneth!'

With a smile Elrond watched his daughter dash off, following her in a less hurried manner. 

Arriving at the stables, Celebriníel found her mother already waiting, as if some secret whisper had told her of the imminent arrival of her parents. 

Dismounting, Celeborn's eyes glimmered as his granddaughter threw her arms around him. 

'Suilad, Daeradar ...'

'How you have grown, tithen-pen,' he smiled, looked down at her, at least a head taller than the last time he had seen her. Celebriníel did not release him as she stretched a hand out to Galadriel and held it a moment. Celebrían came forward to embrace her mother, exchanging a knowing smile with her father. 

Elrond had reached the stables as well by then, and caught the arm Celeborn offered, smiling at his daughter's behaviour. Greeting Galadriel, he turned again to feel Celebrían catch his hand for a moment. 

'You should have sent word,' he smiled at Celeborn, offering his arm to Galadriel. 'For now we shall have to hurry and bring everything in order.'

Celeborn grinned.

'Knowing you, I do not believe it is necessary. Anticipation is one of your greater talents.' 

'You know me too well,' Elrond nodded with a grin, before he began to lead Galadriel towards the house, meanwhile inquiring after the journey. 

Celebriníel smiled and looked up at Celeborn.

'I will go help Ada though.'

The silver-haired Elf-lord let his granddaughter's hand slip from his grasp and watched her meet up with her father, who placed an arm around her shoulders. Celeborn smiled at his daughter and she placed her arm through his. 

'Perhaps because she was born on Aman, there is something ... I do not know ... She is like me, resembles me when I was younger.'

Celebrían smiled and nodded.

'She is very fond of you.'

'As I am of her.' Celeborn said, pausing a moment before taking a deep breath. 'Have you considered what your mother proposed?'

With a shake of the head, Celebrían met her father's eyes. 

'Briníel will probably decide to go with you, if Elrond allows it. It depends on what she will wish to concentrate her studies.'

They were both silent for a moment. Celeborn seemed to consider the notion. 

'Healing can never be a bad thing to learn.'

With a weak smile Celebrían gazed into the distance.

'I merely wonder if her own father would not be as good a teacher in such matters.'

'Then do not let her go.' Celeborn said gently, smiling comfortingly. His daughter looked at him.

'It might not be my choice, Adar. If she wishes to go, who am I to keep her?'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

fileg: small bird 

Mithlond: Grey Havens

Ered Luin: the Blue Mountains east of Harlindon 

Hithaeglir: the Misty Mountains

tithen-pen: little one

Adar: father

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	18. Reacquainting

**High Princes of Tirion  
by Nemis**

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**Chapter Seventeen     Reacquainting**

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It was a lone rider that emerged from the stables, which surprised Glorfindel. For some reason he had expected an entourage of Elf-lords, or at least several riders. Light of step, the other Elf-lord reached the base of the stairway and smiled broadly, eyes glimmering. 

'Well, imagine meeting you here.'

'I did not think you would come,' Glorfindel replied as he shortly embraced the High Prince.

Stepping back, Ereinion looked at him seriously for a brief moment, meanwhile pulling off his gloves.

'Tirion has not been the same since you left it, mellon. I missed you.' 

Glorfindel frowned playfully.

'Am I supposed to believe that?'

With a chuckle, Ereinion pressed his index finger against his lips. 

'Believe what you wish. Meanwhile, I have gone missing of course, leaving the arena in the capable hands of my councillors, to go and have some non-political fun.'

'Are we to expect search parties looking for you soon?' Glorfindel asked, his eyes now beginning to twinkle as well.

Nodding thoughtfully, Ereinion pursed his lips.

'You might. But please, do not inform them of my presence. Say I went... fishing.'

Both greatly amused, the Elves turned towards the house. Ereinion loosened his regal travel clothing, throwing his cloak over his shoulder in an attempt to free himself of the restricting leather tunic he wore underneath. Grinning, Glorfindel watched his friend struggle with fastenings, not even offering help, his hands firmly behind his back.

'And how are politics in Tirion?'

'Very interesting,' Ereinion said, seeming a little preoccupied with fastenings. 'And quite content without me, I would dare say.'

Laughing, Glorfindel ascended the steps.

'We get the news here, and you are indeed very active... What was it most recently? Something about the number of apprentices a craftsman is allowed to keep?'

Ereinion nodded solemnly, ceasing the skirmish with his clothing for a moment.

'You are close in explaining it thusly, but it is not that simple... I mean, there shall be stricter rules to advance in position, and the more apprentices on higher levels the more lower apprentices one is allowed to have. The problem remains that advanced apprentices, when they turn craftsmen themselves, often quickly leave to start their own shops, and that young apprentices denote advantages for the craftsman, but if they do not have enough guidance in a workshop...'

'Stay,' Glorfindel said, patting Ereinion's shoulder. 'Methinks you are enjoying these things too much.'

Ereinion smiled, a slight trace of compunction in his manner. 

'Perhaps that is true. My grandfather certainly finds it very entertaining. Especially since he had to drag me over there in the first place.'

Content to leave the subject where it was, Glorfindel raised a hand.

'Let us speak of the festivities then... There shall be some equestrian gaming, which I think you should enjoy.'

Finally releasing himself of the confining item of clothing, the other nodded.

'Elaborate.'

'How many rings would you wish to attempt?'

Thoughtfully, the High Prince narrowed his eyes.

'Hmm... Eight, ten?'

Glorfindel tilted his head slightly.

'Would you try twelve? You used to try twelve all the time, just for fun.'

He watched the Elf-lord purse his lips.

'Are you challenging me, Glorfindel of Imloth?'

With a nod, Glorfindel assented. 

'I think I am, Ereinion of Tirion.'

'And when is this to occur?'

'Tomorrow at noon.'

'We shall see if despite politics, I am still able to handle a spear.'

'It was never a problem before.'

'Do not make me blush.'

'The person that can make you blush has yet to be found on Aman.'

'Hmm,' Ereinion said, attempting to look innocent. 'For all you know...'

'Ah, but I do, you see,' Glorfindel persisted, not far away from chuckling out loud. 'From what I hear, you are considered to be a true saint. Always kind, but never too kind as to attract the anger of husbands.'

'Is it not possible I can keep secrets surprisingly well?'

'Not even you can keep them that well.'

Ereinion smirked, and they entered the library, where Elrond already stood waiting.

'So Tirion has granted you leave?'

Dropping the surplus of clothing on a chair, the High Prince smiled.

'Not exactly, so better not ask, _mellon.'_

At the same moment, a lady rose from a seat nearby.

'Ereinion, is it truly you?' she asked, and it was her hair alone that made him recognise her, much changed from the young girl he had known years ago.

'Celebriníel... You have grown as lovely as your mother,' he replied, catching the hand she offered.

For a moment he was uncertain as to how to respond further, but she solved the dilemma by firmly embracing him.

'And your words are as sweet as ever, my Lord, but that should not surprise me since it concerns a politician.'

Elrond and Glorfindel chuckled as Ereinion grinned.

'You have not only grown to her likeness, but developed that rapid tongue your mother possesses as well.'

'I take that as the highest compliment you can give me, my Lord,' she smiled broadly.

'And you should,' he nodded. 'You should.'

With a smile and a nod towards the Elf-lords, the youngest lady of the House took her leave and Elrond invited them further inside. Glorfindel raised a hand.

'I fear I must decline,' he smiled, 'for there is still enough to be done before tomorrow.' He looked at Elrond. 'And the Lord of the House left most of the preparations in my hands.'

With a smile, Elrond nodded.

'Get you gone, Glorfindel.'

With a playful nod to Ereinion, the golden-haired Elf-lord went on his way, and the other two continued into the study. Surprised, Ereinion shook his head.

'I had not seen Celebriníel for... Since you spent that year in Tirion.'

Elrond smiled. 

'You have missed each other by mere days, even hours, over the years. She travels to the Gardens of Lórien often, where her grandparents reside as ever. Much to do with her studies as well.'

'How are Celeborn and Galadriel?'

'They are well, I hear,' Elrond replied.

'Celebrían travels there often, I expect?'

Elrond shook his head with a smile.

'She rarely does; it is her father that travels here more often. Celebriníel usually accompanies Elladan or Celeborn.'

'Ah yes, I saw Elladan and Aurehen in Tirion, not long ago. My congratulations.'

There appeared a proud glimmer in Elrond's eyes.

'I expect them to return before nightfall.'

Nodding, Ereinion sat down, and Elrond handed him a glass of wine before smiling broadly.

'Is it true there are bets on when you will betroth yourself in Tirion?'

Putting down the glass he had brought to his lips, Ereinion laughed.

'I in fact enquired into the matter and discovered this to be true... Yet most gamblers still believe me to be the bachelor of before.'

'Are they right to?'

The High Prince seemed to consider his answer for a moment.

'Probably. I have not been hit over the head with love yet.'

'Hmm,' Elrond replied, tightening his lips in an attempt to hide his still broadening smile. Both of them sipped their glasses for a moment before Elrond regained most of his seriousness.

'Gildor is here too, somewhere.'

Ereinion raised an eyebrow.

'From where comes the need to tell me this?' 

'I am merely being informative, you have nothing against him, have you?' Elrond smiled, knowing very well that most of the heated public discussions Ereinion had in the Council were with Gildor Inglorion. 

'Nothing against him, I think he has proven an astute politician.'

'And you are still impaired with that which they call political correctness, I hear.'

'Indeed,' Ereinion smiled. Elrond nodded.

'How much do you suppose your name influences decisions nowadays?'

'I heard recently that someone was wondering why, instead of leading opposition parties, the three High Princes tend to unite when it concerns political matters. I suppose it is true we have never risen against each other, basically because it has never been necessary. Perhaps time will tell who has most legislative power. At the moment I think my influence comes mainly from my father's and grandfather's support,' he paused. 'I still cannot convince you to enter the governing body?' 

Elrond smiled wryly. 

'I mingled in the politics of Middle-earth because you did, and later because I felt it my responsibility and because no one else would. I have no wish to enter into it again now.'

'You sound like I did, not too many years ago,' Ereinion smirked.

'Perhaps. But I did not start my life anew. I think I have had enough politics to last me a long, long time.' Elrond returned, undoubtedly amused. 

--~~*~~--

Leaving Elrond to his business, Ereinion walked to his rooms, a route he had often taken over the years, but seemed new and strange at present nevertheless. Hopefully his luggage, even though it did not consist of much, had already been brought up there.

Not paying attention, he took a sharp corner and accidentally walked into someone, only catching an arm just in time to prevent the person from losing balance completely.

'I do apologise,' he began, then smiled.

Celebriníel shook her head. 

'It was my fault. Could I ask a favour though?'

'Name it,' he replied.

'I am being chased rather irritatingly by a young Elf. Would you lend me your arm and escort me to my mother's chambers please?'

'You take refuge on my arm?' he chuckled.

'I do,' she grinned back. 'For you have a tendency to scare them away naturally.'

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

'You must be joking.'

She smiled amusedly.

'I must be.'

Watching his reaction, she was quick to explain. 

'They hear of your discussions in the Council. Perhaps those are somewhat exaggerated, but you are made out to be a fierce opponent. They would never dare come near you and act as childish as they would around me on my own.'

'I see,' he nodded, more pleased than he would let on.

'My father's presence has the same effect, of course,' she reassured. 'But perhaps that is another matter entirely.'

'He tells me you visit the Gardens of Lórien often?'

She nodded.

'I do, my grandfather often comes to collect me. He is much help to me in my studies, and I can better bear him then Adar at times. You have been to the Gardens?'

Ereinion laughed.

'I came there often before your father arrived on Aman, when your mother still lived there.'

'I love it there, but I miss my parents too much. And Ada does not truly like it there, and Nana rather stays with him. But you know Lórien well?'

'I used to, but I have not been there in quite some time. Too far away, I suppose. No amount of yewtrees and cedars call vigorously enough for me to actually make the trip.' 

As they entered into the next hallway, Celebriníel shook her head. 

'I do not expect I shall have time to make the trip often either, now.'

'Ah yes, I think it was your brother who told me that you had decided upon a deeper a study of ancient Elvish languages?' Ereinion offered, looking at her with an unmistakable smile. 

Celebriníel chuckled.

'I made my father very happy that day. It will most likely force me to go to Tirion often. And that means Imloth shall be my home again.'

'It sounds very interesting.'

'It is at times. But often, I suppose, it is as boring as your common Council meeting. It can be very dry. My mother is quite interested in it though. Sometimes too much so.'

Bowing his head, Ereinion could not suppress yet another chuckle.

She had indeed grown up in her mother's likeness.

'But pray, tell, who is this Elf that chases you?'

'Ah, that would be Arinmîr. Aurehen's parents have already arrived and he accompanied them. I think he was more bearable when younger.'

'You make it sound as if your life spanned at least three times his years.'

'Well, he seemed less eager to prove himself when he was younger,' she shrugged. 'Most Elves my age tend to give me that impression. But Nana says I am too much like Ada in that aspect. I suppose she is right,' she smiled. 'I can wait an Age and see how I feel about such things then.'

'So, you do not wish to betroth yourself to anyone just yet?'

'If memory serves me right, the only proposal of marriage I ever made was to you,' she chuckled. 'And you were not very enthusiastic. Perhaps you malformed my feelings towards marriage somewhat.'

He laughed. 

'Ah, but we were both young and impulsive at that time, Lady, so let us forget such proposals.'

'We kiss and part?' she smiled. 

He looked up and then down the hallway.

'It seems we part in any case, for we have arrived at your mother's chambers, unless I am much mistaken. Unscathed, even.'

'So it seems,' she replied, releasing his arm. She made to enter the chambers beyond, but stopped for a moment. 'I expect I shall see you at dinner?'

Ereinion consented with a nod.

'Very likely.'

'Good,' she smiled, her hand resting on the handle of the door.

'Give my regards to your mother.'

'I will.'

As the door closed, Ereinion stood waiting a moment, before shaking his head. With an inward chuckle, he turned and once more began to make his way to his rooms, in the hope this time he would not be led further away from them. 

--~~*~~--

Celebriníel made her way through the first chamber of the rooms belonging to her parents, finding her mother staring into a closet, several dresses draped over her arm. 

'Oh, I can be such a child,' she sighed, as she dropped onto a chair. 

Celebrían observed her daughter, raising an eyebrow. With a swift movement she dropped the dresses she had been carrying into Celebriníel's arms.

'And what is it now, that makes you lament as you do?'

A little self-conscious all of a sudden, Celebriníel shook her head, feeling her cheeks redden. 

'I was babbling again.'

Celebrían nodded, retrieving yet another piece of clothing from the closet and inspecting it further. 

'I cannot believe your father insists on keeping these shirts. It is not as if he ever wears them.' She sighed and looked at her daughter. 'To whom was this babbling directed, exactly?'

'Ereinion,' Celebriníel replied shortly, waving a hand, not wishing to dwell on it for too long. 'He sends his regards.'

Wishing quite the opposite, her mother halted for a moment and smiled.

'And when was it that he arrived?'

'I am not certain, but I left the library when he came to see Ada. I merely ran into him in the hallway later on. Literally.'

'You do this often? Running into people? Literally?' Celebrían teased, continuing on the subject on purpose.

'I cannot help you and Ada have so many guests around the house. It is a miracle if one can cross the hallway without running into someone. Literally.' 

--~~*~~--

Anar had already gone, only its reddish glow still lighting up the sky as Elrond left the house and descended the steps, meeting his eldest son and his wife below. Aurehen smiled as the elder Elf-lord stretched out a hand to her. Catching it, she squeezed it thankfully. 

'How was your journey?' Elrond asked, offering his arm.

'Uneventful,' Elladan answered, as he walked beside his father, folding his arms behind his back.

'So he says,' Aurehen spoke softly to her father-in-law, 'but he is not carrying the child.' 

With a chuckle, Elrond placed his hand on her arm as they ascended the steps. 

'Am I right to assume you shall stay here?'

Aurehen nodded.

'I am not intent on going anywhere now,' she said with a weak smile. 'I am tired, and hungry, and simply wish some rest, at the moment.'

Entering the house, Elrond halted in the hall, at the foot of a new flight of stairs. 

'Dinner has just started, so you could easily join. But if you would rather rest, I will ask someone to bring up a meal.' 

Considering for a moment, the Elf-lady reached for Elladan's hand, smiling at him, then at Elrond. 

'If you give me a moment to change, I shall join you presently.'

Both nodded.

'We shall wait for you here,' Elrond smiled. 

As she disappeared into one of the hallways, the Lord of the House turned to his son and embraced him. 

'How was Tirion?' 

'Busy,' Elladan replied. 'It made me realise I prefer having Imloth for a home, as opposed to the City. Also, that not always having the entire family living together, or near each other, can be a blessing.' 

Elrond nodded with a smile.

'There was a time when we were not very close as a family. But we survived it. Perhaps, in a sense, it has brought us closer.'

Elladan smiled and shook his head. 

'Believe me, we were never quite like that.'

Silent for a moment, Elrond looked up at Elladan again.

'You brother will join us as well?' 

His son nodded.

'Tomorrow morning. There were some things he wished to wait for, so he could discuss them with Ereinion if it was required. But if you will excuse me as well, I shall change out of my riding clothes swiftly.'

With a pat on the shoulder, Elrond grinned.

'Go.'

--~~*~~--

'Yes, but how does one judge if a literary text transcends history? Do you wait? How does one determine the intrinsic artistic worth?' Celebriníel asked, shaking her head. 

'Well, it is not as if we do not have enough time,' Ereinion answered calmly, rising to collect a decanter of wine. 'Some literary works simply stay, are repeated through time, where others seem to be more of a fashion, a style connected to a certain point in history.'

'But do they not represent that certain period in time? Does that not make them equally important?'

Pouring himself some more wine, offering Glorfindel and Erestor, who sat on either side of him, a refill, Ereinion shook his head. 

'Through time, the Elves have always had a tendency to distinguish between literature of history, the tales one hears told from early childhood on, and literature created more in the spur of the moment, of a kind less general. Often different parts of the latter kind are known only in certain circles. That makes them more suitable for storytelling sessions in which one wishes to surprise the listener, where the ancient tales are more or less to show how well a speaker or singer is familiar with the tale, and demonstrate a degree of distinction in bringing it.' 

'You say literature has different functions?'

Sitting down, not able to suppress a smile, Ereinion took a pensive sip from his glass.

'I believe I am.'

'And is this a conventional point of view?' Celebriníel replied, more than a trace of irony in her question. 

Celebrían raised an eyebrow from across the table, but Ereinion merely smiled.

'I would not dare to claim my views are conventional.'

Glorfindel shook his head.

'You would not, but there can be no denying Ereinion Gil-galad was quite the literary patron in his time.'

With a smile, Ereinion chewed on some bread. 

'But mostly renowned for his shiny armour. The brilliant strategist and fine warrior were sadly forgotten in song.' 

'Ah, but not in books, I would think. Even the casual student of the Second Age cannot deny being acquainted with your strategies.'

Ereinion turned and grinned at Elrond, standing up to raise his glass. 

'It was about time you came to the rescue.'

The rest of the Elves sitting around the table also rose to greet Elladan and Aurehen, who had accompanied Elrond. 

Celebriníel had soon forgotten any conversation she had been taking part in and was silently conversing with Aurehen, who was now seated next to her. Others around the table were not so quick to let it go by.

'Of course, Elven kings can be no less important patrons of literature than they are warriors. It is not possible to be at war all the time,' Arinmîr said. 'Both sword and writing gear are tools a ruler needs.'

'Or a spear and writing gear, for that matter.'

Ereinion watched the two ladies from the other side of the table, listening only with half an ear to the conversation nearby, the one he was supposedly involved in. 

He was nudged by Glorfindel, and turned to meet Gildor's questioning eyes. 

'I apologise, I was not listening.'

'Apparently you were not,' the Elf-lord said, more than slightly amused. 

'Perchance I have grown accustomed to hearing your voice and as a result tend to pay little heed to it.' Ereinion shrugged teasingly. 

Gildor smiled, sitting down on a nearby chair.

'Or perhaps you were preoccupied with other... matters.' 

'Like what?'

'I would not know.' Gildor said innocently.

Ereinion rose with a sigh.

'Well, this is not something new.'

Glorfindel looked up at him.

'You are not going?'

'Not far anyway, I shall be returning presently.'

Patting Gildor on the shoulder as he passed by, Ereinion left the hall, finding himself heading for the gardens quite involuntarily. 

Darkness had already fallen, but the stars stood out brightly in the night sky. 

The midnight-air blew playfully through his hair, and he closed his eyes for a moment. 

No one would come disturb him now, telling him there were visitors, messages, councils...

'Did I offend you?'

The voice cut sharply through the silence he had imagined. Turning, he found Celebriníel watching him, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

He shook his head and smiled.

'You did not, do not be troubled. It is not often I can simply step outside and have a moment to myself, I merely took advantage of the opportunity. But it was impolite of me to leave without word to anyone.' 

'Ah, I do not think many looked strangely upon it,' the girl spoke in a relieved tone. 'And if it is some peace you seek, I shall leave you.'

'No, no, stay,' he said quickly, raising a hand. 'I shall be returning shortly anyway, and I would enjoy some company until I do.'

Nearing him, Celebriníel looked up at the sky as well. 

'It is a very clear night.'

'That it certainly is,' Ereinion nodded. 'Menelvagor,' he said softly, as he pointed upwards, 'the Swordsman of the Sky... With Remmirath to the North and Helluin to the South...' His hand wandered seemingly pointlessly through the air, and he felt foolish.

'Stars seem to bring peace. Stability,' she said, gazing up. 'At least they seem to bring that to me.'

_Somehow they do not seem to bring me much now... Ereinion thought, strangely enough finding himself comparing her hair to the silver veil Ithil had laid over everything. _

'No doubt there will be storytelling tonight?' he asked, not comfortable with the silence somehow.

She nodded, smiling broadly.

'No doubt.'

'You used to like stories.'

With a dreamy look she stared up again. 

'I still do. I heard most of them over the years, you see, my father loved telling them, and I loved to listen.'

Ereinion smiled.

'Your father is a great storyteller.'

There sounded an unmistakable pride in her voice when she answered.

'That he is...' Celebriníel looked at Ereinion. 'It was only much later that I understood how personal those stories all were to him. For me they were just that, tales, for him and the rest of the family they were reality, things that occurred in their shared past.' 

Thoughtfully he nodded, offering his arm and slowly guiding her inside again. 

'Is that hard? I mean...'

'Hmm, I do not know. It is what I grew up with.' Suddenly she placed a hand on his arm and stopped him. 'Do you remember that story you told me once, with Elernil and Arinmîr? The one about the craftsman making the harp?'

'I do,' he answered, easily distinguishing one of his favourite stories from her description. 

'Tell that one tonight?'

Slowly he nodded, as they entered the house again. 

'If you wish.'

Smiling, she nodded.

'I will very much enjoy hearing it again.' 

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Menelvagor: Elvish name for the star-group we know as Orion

Remmirath: Elvish name for the cluster today called the Pleiades

Helluin: Elvish for the star we call Sirius 

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Ahahahha... *nances off quickly*


	19. Flight

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: Special thanks go to kalurien (for tolerating me and my drafts), and Jen (for putting up with my lack of knowledge where it concerns horses), Casey, for showing me that rephrasing is my friend. ;)) 

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**Chapter Eighteen     Flight **

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The sun had only barely dawned when the once Lord of Imladris left the house. He had just enjoyed what could be called a small, but very pleasant private breakfast with Celebrían, and now wandered into the direction of the stables, acting on a feeling alone. 

But there he found who he had expected, his youngest son occupied with unsaddling his wife's horse, his grandson busy inspecting one of the hooves of his mount. Elrond smiled. 

'Good morrow to you.'

Happily smiling, Mîrlinde embraced her father-in-law, and Elrohir straightened his back, sporting a broad smile, taking some quick steps to greet his father as well. 

'And good morrow to you, Adar. Even if it is a very early one,' he nodded. 

Studying his son's face, Elrond seemed pleased.

'Elladan relayed you were to arrive early. I had hoped to find you here.'

Elrohir's smile broadened.

Elernil had by now decided that nothing was wrong with the hoof he had been worried about, and neared his grandfather, leaving the horse in the care of one of the many stable hands that were already bustling about in anticipation of what was to take place this afternoon. Grandfather and grandson were almost as tall now, a rather recent occurrence. It was indeed Elrond, Elernil took after. 

'Suilad, Daeradar,' he said as they caught arms, then embraced. 

'Suilad, Elernil. It is good to see you,' Elrond returned, identical smiling eyes meeting. 

Turning to his son again, Elrond threw him a questioning look.

'You breakfasted before leaving Tirion, no doubt?'

Offering an arm to Mîrlinde, Elrohir smiled.

'I do not doubt we can manage a second breakfast.'

As he winked at his son, his wife addressed Elrond. 

'Elladan and Aurehen arrived without encountering any inconvenience while on the road?'

'Both tired and hungry, I recall, but in good health indeed,' Elrond replied, 'I have no doubt you will meet them as soon as we join the others. You can enquire after it yourself.' 

'Naneth is well?' Elrohir continued almost at once, as the four Elves began making their way up to the house. 

'Very well.'

'Briníel?'

Elrond smiled unmistakably, bowing his head as if there was some inward chuckle he wished to hide from view. 

'I do not believe I have ever seen her more content than at present. In hindsight, allowing her to go with your grandparents was a good decision.' 

'Yes,' Elrohir grinned. 'Though I recall you were not extremely pleased at the time.'

'Hmm,' Elrond began his reply, but the appearance of both Aurehen and Celebrían seemed to impede any further discussion of the subject. Mîrlinde left Elrohir's side to join the other two ladies, the three of them commencing in muted conversation at once, as a hand was placed on Aurehen's protruding belly. Celebrían left the two and came to embrace her son and grandson, exchanging cheerful greetings and unnecessary enquiries after well-being.

Finally she took Elrond's arm, waiting a moment before Mîrlinde caught Aurehen's arm and smiled, all of them moving towards the place where the collective breakfast was to be held. 

Hands behind their backs, Elrohir and Elernil made up the rear. Upon entering the hall, Elernil nodded a greeting into Ereinion's direction, but the High Prince appeared too caught up in a conversation with Gildor to notice, standing near one of the other entrances to the hall. 

His entire expression was emotionless, almost cold, causing Elernil to wonder if this was an appropriate moment to approach. Elrohir caught his son's elbow, observing too and raising a subsequent eyebrow. 

'Do we go together?'

'It might be safer.' 

Glancing at his son, Elrohir adopted the same teasing twinkle that could be found in Elernil's eyes. Together they walked towards the two Elves rather than into the direction of the breakfast table. 

His gaze secured on Gildor's boot as they stood shoulder to shoulder, voices soft, Ereinion seemed to be listening carefully, hands behind his back. Gildor observed him intently, pausing a moment. 

'You know there are some who continue to claim this.' 

Still gazing down, the High Prince sounded contemplative, yet there was a trace of irritation in his voice when he replied. 

'I do not enjoy being called my family's offspring in political terms. I think I am speaking truthfully when I say I support what I think is best, and because the other High Princes do so as well, we often arrive at the same conclusions. I have no wish to stand opposite them merely to prove I am not a puppet.'

'Still, until you do stand against them, is it not so that yours remains the lesser voice supporting a grander opinion?'

A scrutinizing gaze met Gildor's. 

'I do not appreciate that.'

'Be that as it may...'

Ereinion raised a hand and stopped the Elf-lord from continuing. 

'If it happens, it will happen. Until it does, though, I do not wish to continue any such dialogue.' 

Gildor nodded, and they both looked up to find Elrohir and Elernil nearing. 

Not having much difficulty gathering a smile, Ereinion nodded.

'Just in time for breakfast, I see? I should have known.'

With a swift movement he turned both Elrohir and Elernil to face the table and motioned them towards it, immediately immersing himself in polite but meaningless conversation. 

Father and son threw each other an amused look, but allowed themselves to be guided towards what promised to be a very nice addition to what was already in their stomachs. As Ereinion made certain they were seated, it was his own elbow that was touched upon. Turning, he found Celebriníel, who smiled timidly at him. 

Her eyes darted towards Arinmîr entering, the young Elf no doubt having been intentionally distracted in order to prevent him from arriving at the breakfast table early. 

'Ah yes,' the High Prince nodded. 'And?'

He was aware of pretending to be particularly dense, but argued it was for his own sake. 

'Please?' she pleaded quietly. 

For a moment he hesitated, then judged the distance Arinmîr still had to go, and sighed overdramatically, before offering his arm. 

'Last time.'

Celebriníel took it with what he thought was a slight jump. 

As he raised an eyebrow, she looked at him, her expression radiantly pleased.

'Thank you.'

Nodding thoughtfully, he guided her towards two empty seats and waited for her to settle down before taking the unoccupied chair beside her. Arinmîr lay claim on a chair opposite theirs. 

Nearly everyone had arrived by now, leaving only two places visibly empty. 

It was then that Glorfindel entered hurriedly, Erestor not a step behind him. Ereinion had noticed them darting about the house earlier, when he had been seated upstairs in the library. 

Even before seating himself, Glorfindel pointed a finger at him. 

'You, twelve rings, noon?' 

A general chuckle rose from around the table and Ereinion sat back with a broad smile on his face. 

'If I did not know any better, I would think you were making me a very dishonourable proposition.' 

Ignoring the undertone of the remark, Glorfindel made a note and sat down. Erestor had taken the last empty seat. 

Letting her gaze wander over the faces of the guests at the table, Celebrían ascertained all was ready and smiled her approval. 

'Galu erin i bast.'

The blessing was repeated around the table, and breakfast commenced. 

Celebriníel's thankfulness seemed to display itself in her supplying Ereinion with some of the more exceptional delicacies that could be found on the table. She did not seem to think the action particularly unusual, and further occupied herself with assembling her own breakfast. 

From across the table, Ereinion received something which almost resembled a glare from Arinmîr. 

Greatly amused, he bent towards Celebriníel. 

'Your friend is not very pleased I am in his seat.'

Looking up, Celebriníel shook her head, ignoring any gazes of another nature sent to her. 

'It is not exactly his seat, and he is not exactly my friend.'

'Ah,' Ereinion nodded, returning his attention to the plate in front of him again. 'Do forgive my ignorance.'

'Do not jest about it,' Celebriníel returned softly. 'It is not amusing.'

'Of course not.'

Glancing up to see if he was laughing at her, she smiled when finding his attention mainly on his plate. 

'Tell me about this afternoon.'

Chewing thoughtfully, he shook his head.

'What is there to tell? Horse, spear, rings.'

'You enjoy it?'

'When I am given the chance, certainly.'

'Can I accompany you?'

Studying her face to see if she truly meant it, he finally gave in.

'If you wish.'

Giving him an affirmative nod, Celebriníel returned to the breakfast as well, and the rest of the meal was spent in amiable silence. 

--~~*~~--

Slightly squinting due to Anar's bright beams, Ereinion oversaw the field before him, observing some last spectators huddled together near the fence. A touch on his arm caused him to bring his reverie to an end and he smiled. 

'All set?'

Celebriníel nodded.

'Indeed.'

Jointly they continued onwards, into the direction of the makeshift stables, a privilege he had just defended vigorously, and at last attained. 

Understandably, the supervising marshals and mediators were reluctant to allow mere onlookers too close to the horses and sports ground, but for the youngest lady of the house, Ereinion would have expected them to make an exception. Especially since half of the family was wandering around here already. 

Evidently he had been mistaken, but that had not withheld him from insisting. _Which had made all the difference_, he thought with a silent chuckle. For here they walked. 

Elladan stood a little removed, speaking to Elrohir about the condition of the grounds. Greeting them with a short nod, Ereinion and Celebriníel went on towards the box where a bay horse stood waiting patiently. Ereinion had called the stallion his own for some years now, a gift from his father. 

Leaving Celebriníel for a moment, Ereinion approached the animal from the left front side and smiled. 

'Hullo, Airavar,' he whispered, patting the animal tenderly on the shoulder. 'How about it?'

Shaking his mane, the stallion pushed his nose against the Elf-lord's shoulder, causing him to chuckle, and scratch the animal behind the ears. 

'Ah good, my friend, very good.' Nodding a thanks at the attendant who had seen to the horse and its tack, he took Airavar by the rein. Keeping beside the horse's left shoulder, still whispering softly, he returned to Celebriníel. 

'Quite stunning,' she smiled, stepping closer and reaching up to gently rub the animals withers. 

'Indeed,' Ereinion nodded, observing the shine on the horse's coat caused by Anar's rays. 

With a grin the silver-haired lady looked at him.

'Explain to me the rules of entering the field, please.'

Ereinion looked at her for a moment. 

'I should think your father explained those rules to you long ago already?'

Celebriníel kept her eyes locked with his.

'I am certain you can explain again...'

Taking her hand, for a reason he himself was not able to explain afterwards, he placed it on the horse's forehead, keeping his own placed on top of it.

'Always listen to the marshal and his aids,' he nodded into the direction of a dark-haired elf, clothed in a very dark blue, who still eyed them occasionally with an unmistakable irritation in his gaze. 'They should never get an argument from a player or spectator concerning their business.'

Celebriníel smiled playfully, and Ereinion realised she had just lured him into the exact position where she had wanted him. Had he not just done exactly that which he forbad her now?

'Except when his Lordship, the High Prince, says so?' she commented teasingly.

He could not help but laugh, the look in her eyes made it obligatory. 

'Let me say it is rarely necessary for me to involve myself in such matters.'

Barely able to keep her face from crinkling into a smile, Celebriníel gratefully took the arm she was offered. 

Gazing across the field while walking, she smiled, pointing at the T-shaped posts. 

'Glorfindel made it sound like twelve rings are an exception. How many rings do you generally play with?'

'Eight or ten,' he answered, keeping half an eye on Airavar, 'But Glorfindel knows how to challenge a person.'

She nodded, not able to keep from laughing. 

'True, in so many ways.' A pause followed, the greater part of her amusement subsiding before she continued. 'Well, will you win?'

Ereinion chuckled, mainly because he had no idea what else to do.

'Such trust you have in me...'

Celebriníel patted his arm. 

'I trust you, do not doubt that, but I have never seen you ride in a contest before.'

Trying to look offended, Ereinion narrowed his eyes, as if he needed to study the grounds further. 

'Will you at least cheer for me?'

As they halted, Celebriníel grinned up at him.

'Shall there be anybody in the crowd who would dare not to, my Lord?'

With a smile Ereinion allowed her to release his arm; he was expected to mount soon. He shook his head shortly, a small light in his eyes when he addressed her again.

'I do not particularly care about anyone else and who they cheer for.'

Celebriníel gave him a nod and for a moment both seemed to hesitate.

'A kiss for good luck?'

Placing a hand on Ereinion's arm, she pressed her lips against his cheek and quickly turned, walking over to her brothers, who would no doubt look over her from there.

_Did she blush?_ Ereinion wondered with an amused smile, placing his foot in the stirrup and swiftly throwing a leg across Airavar's back. Casting a look into her direction he received another radiant smile. _She blushed._

As a signal was given, he was forced to relinquish the stream of thought, and a spear was handed up to him. There followed a short interval in which horse and rider were given a moment to see to any last preparations. 

By the time the next signal was given, Ereinion spurred the horse straight away, Airavar sensing exactly what it was his master wished him to do. 

Nearing the post in a gallop, the Elf-lord attempted to regulate his breath, much more self-conscious than usual, trying to concentrate on the six rings that hung glistening in the sun. 

He had done this many times before, had practiced it from a very early age on, but twelve rings were twelve rings and not even he could be absolutely certain if he was able to...

Sounds of praise and approval came from the general direction of the on-looking crowd, as one of the judges threw up his hands in an enthusiastic manner.

Switching the spear from its horizontal position to a safer vertical one, Ereinion felt the circular metal bands slide down. The sizes of the six rings varied, but he swiftly recognised the smallest one, last to reach its resting place against his hand, accompanied by a small tinkle as it hit the other rings already resting there.

With a small smile the High Prince handed down the rings to a waiting attendant, who offered a supportive nod. 

Only a little encouragement was needed to get Airavar to accelerate again, and they approached the other side of the post in pressing silence. Or perhaps it only appeared to be extremely quiet. 

Whichever was the case, it unbalanced the Elf-lord, some vague memory of an identical lack of sound making him lose concentration. Reminding himself he had to raise the lance, he knew, even before bringing it up entirely, that he had missed at least two of the rings. That short moment of indecisiveness, lasting only a split second, had caused him to fall short. The experience of wielding a weapon two life-times had not helped him today. 

Passing the post, his eyes locked on the referee and indeed observed the Elf indicate that two rings remained.

'Blast,' he heard himself curse, allowing Airavar to considerably slow his fast pace to a trot, before coming to a standstill. He waited for someone to collect the four rings he had been able to secure, and then handed down the spear to one of the squires appointed to him. 

Finally dismounting, on the opposite side of the field from where he had set off, he handed Airavar away as well. Elrond's Master of Stables, who stood by to oversee the goings-on, gave him a raised eyebrow. 

'Be quiet, Rumhir.' Ereinion mumbled, knowing all too well that he had not been the only one to notice his hesitation. 

The Elf, who he recalled knowing a long time ago, nodded, but not without a certain curiosity. 

'Of course, my Lord.'

Walking off a little, much in need of a moment of solitude, he placed his hand on the topmost wooden beam and leapt over the fence, landing in the grass on the other side, where he began taking off his gloves.

_What are you doing, Ereinion? _he asked himself, angrily pulling at the tips of the leather gloves. _What in Mandos's name are you doing?_

Using quite some force, he propelled the items of clothing into the grass and rubbed his forehead. 

Concentrating on what had caused him to lose focus, he did not even hear approaching footsteps. 

The touch on his elbow almost had him hit Celebriníel in the face, but she was agile enough to expect and avoid it. 

'Peace, lord,' she mumbled, looking at him. 'What happened?'

He stared at her a moment, then shook his head. 

'The silence, it unsettled me.' 

She frowned.

'Silence?'

'Yes.'

'There was no silence.'

Biting his lip, he continued to look at her, attempting to remember, hoping that somehow he was not on the verge of losing that part of his mind which was required to think clearly. 

The impulse to catch her hand and gently press his lips against hers was overwhelming. Desire seemed to surge though his stomach in the same ferocious manner with which sense in turn pounded his brain, causing him to sincerely consider the possibility he had indeed lost the ability to reason logically. 

'Would you...' he began, halting before he had even noticed.

'Yes?' she asked, her hand still in contact with his arm, causing him unease rather than the comfort she no doubt intended. 

'Would you mind leaving me to gather my thoughts for a while?'

Surprised, she stared back, but then released him and retreated a little. 

'Of course.' 

All he could do was turn away from her, feeling his breath becoming strained, his head light. 

Only when he heard her depart, he did hear it this time, did it abate, did the feeling subside and was he able to gather enough common sense to concentrate again. Moving his hands over his face, he could feel the warmth, and he swallowed audibly. 

'What in Mandos's name indeed...'__

--~~*~~--

Standing in the library, he felt his nerves creep up on him again. 

'I am leaving,' he announced plainly to Elrond, who immediately reacted as Ereinion had expected him to. 

'Why?'

The High Prince looked at him for a moment. 

'Something happened today, while I was out on the grounds, and I... I cannot tell you what. But I would rather return to Tirion and consider it there.'

Impatiently he placed his arms behind his back and turned, walking over to the window. 

Elrond studied the other Elf-lord, trying to discover some explanation for this apparent wish to depart. 

'You do not necessarily have to leave, Ereinion. I am certain it could be arranged for you to be left to your own devices. Some days of self reflection, if you will.' 

'No,' the other replied resolutely. His grey eyes met Elrond's, before looking away again. 'I cannot stay.' He sighed. 'Nothing is the matter, really,' he added matter-of-factly. 'I shall be leaving in an hour or so.'

--~~*~~--

With quick steps, the Elf-lady descended the stairs, pulling up the hem of her dress as she made her way into the High Prince's garden. He was sure to be here, since she did not question the source which had informed her of his return, and she had looked everywhere else. 

But it was late, and she could not stay here long. 

After hastily searching the dense garden of leafage and colour, she shook her head. If he did not wish to be found, her actions were worth little. Nothing at all, even. It had been the same a long time ago, in another life, but it had not changed. 

Then again, she had not known him at this age. The rift had already been there, an estrangement they had brought upon themselves, the three of them. 

With a sigh Alian turned, only to be confronted with exactly the person she had been in search of. ­

Half-concealed by shadows, Ereinion stood silently, head bowed. He appeared to still be wearing his travel clothing.

Uncertain if he had even noticed her, Alian silently observed him, waiting for some sign of acknowledgement. When he finally did raise his head, he smiled, and made to near him, meaning to enquire if he was well. 

Taking the hand she offered, there seemed something in his eyes she thought to recognise. 

'My Lord...' she spoke softly, a short nod of the head accompanying her words. 

'How are you, lady?' he replied, nothing in his voice revealing anything.

Looking at him intently, she shook her head.

'Amazed, I believe. Was it not your intention to return to Tirion at a much later date?'

There was nothing on his face but a feigned grin, the expression in his eyes unchanged. 

'Responsibility calls vehemently.'

'You speak in riddles, Ereinion. Half-truths.' 

Raising an eyebrow at her less then formal address, he looked away. 

'Do I?'

'Hmm,' she replied, releasing his hand. 'And your mother worries.'

There was an immediate change in his bearing, and his gaze returned. 

'I do not think this would concern you.'

Turning towards him again, Alian returned the artificial smile he had given her before. 

'She thought something might have happened. I do not know why she came to me. Perhaps she expected me to know something of it.'

Stepping back into the shadows he chuckled. 

'Why would she think that?'

'I do not know.'

Catching her hand again, he pulled her along, closer, into the shadows as well. Then, he bent towards her, observing a moment before bringing his lips closer to hers. Before entirely comprehending, they found themselves caught up in a passionate embrace, and while Alian wished to give in, she was well aware she should not and that his actions did not seem... True? She wavered. His lips were almost burning hot, his fingers agile. 

'Ereinion...' she breathed, finally gathering enough strength to push her hands against his shoulders, forcing him to end the contact. 'Will pretending I am someone else really help?'

He stared at her, and she feared he would resort to anger, but instead he looked away again and shortly shook his head. 

'No, I... I do not know.'

'I do not understand,' she whispered, 'is there something you wish to accomplish with this?'

Ereinion closed his eyes. He was shocked to hear his voice sounding bitter, almost as if he were the one hurt. As if it had been he who had just been taken advantage of, while knowing all too well it had been the other way around. 

'I know not. I truly know not.'

'I believe you do, Ereinion, meleth-nîn.' Alian replied, and he was surprised to hear her sound the words. 'I believe you are trying to hide from it, pretending you do not know, but you do.'

'What if I do know, but cannot feel what I wish to feel, cannot voice anything?'

'Who is she, Ereinion?'

Uncertain, he averted his gaze. 

'I cannot tell you.'

She smiled forgivingly.

'Then do not tell me. Tell her.'

Shaking his head, his laughter sounded wry. 

'Tell her I love her? While there are oceans of time that cannot be shared prowling between us?'

There followed a moment of silence, in which Ereinion seemed to regret his words, and Alian tried to formulate an answer. 

'You know what happened last time you did not speak what was in your heart,' she whispered at last. 'Realise that, for your own sake.'

Breathing in deeply, he finally met her eyes. 

'Forgive me, lady.'

Stepping back, she moved past him, halting a moment, before continuing further, away. 

'I did that a long time ago already, Ereinion Gil-galad.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Galu erin i bast: Blessings on this meal/bread

Airavar: 'aira' means red in Quenya, 'varne' brown

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	20. A Temporary Thing

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: Thanks go to Jane Austen. I stole an expression from her. ;))  
And thanks to all of you reading (and/or reviewing) too! You make my day. :D *throws caramel-filled chocolate elfies*

Now, officially this was only the first part of the chapter, but since I had some trouble with the centre, and I already reached what usually is my page-limit, I'm dividing it up. *begs forgiveness* 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Nineteen     A** **Temporary Thing**

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Not making a sound, Ereinion slipped into his study. With a shake of the head, he wondered why he was being silent in his own house, allowing the light of the stars to pull him towards the balcony. Opening the doors, he did not step outside, but instead collected a chair and simply sat down, inside, unseen. It was a ridiculous notion, he thought. Anyone seeing the open doors at this time of night would guess he was awake. 

Ever since his return to Tirion he had buried himself in work, trying to forget what had occurred, or at least conceal it under a decent amount of paper. 

But on moments like these, the occasional restless hour of the night, there was no escape. 

Quite certainly there had been a reason for his hesitation during the contest some weeks ago. It was not the first time such a thing had occurred, and he doubted it would be the last time. Realistically, it was not that which had made him return. Or was run away a better way of phrasing it? 

With a deep sigh he sat back, letting the quiet settle on him. 

He considered if he would have stayed at Imloth, had he not reacted so strongly to the presence of the youngest lady of the house, a girl still. 

There was no denying this question occupied his every thought recently. Her face would appear before his mind's eye at the most inconvenient of moments, in the middle of council meetings, during leisurely walking through the garden, though most often the image would come to him in his sleep. 

But possibly, Alian's words ringing true, on the evening of his return, had startled him even more than that. 

His behaviour that night had been inexcusable. How far would he have gone merely to banish whatever he had been trying to hide? Could he, in all honesty, claim he would have discontinued out of his own accord, had Alian not...

But she had seen it, felt it, guessed it, somehow. And confronted him with it. 

Moving forward, resting his elbows on his knees he allowed himself to imagine how it would be, to run his fingers through silver hair, caress soft thighs, to press his lips against pale flesh...

His own reprimand followed almost at once, and he rose, as if it was possible to turn his back on the thoughts.

_She has not even reached maturity yet, fool!_

And even then, how could he justify this love? A love for the young girl he had played games with when younger, who he had told stories on dark evenings, who he had cradled in his arms when she had had a nightmare and could not find her father. A love that went beyond the one that was allowed. 

He had missed some years of her life, true, years in which she had grown up, but how could things possibly change so much in so short a time?

_Is it better not to tempt oneself?_ he thought. In which case, his departure had been the right decision. 

Collecting a bottle of wine and a glass, he simply held both items for a while, staring into the night. 

A rumble of thunder sounded, and almost as if that had been a cue, rain announced itself. 

The weather often seemed to follow his state of mind. 

Returning to his chair, he allowed the steadily falling drops to soothe him. That and the wine. 

_But it will pass_, he told himself. _A mere infatuation, nothing to worry yourself about... It will pass..._

He tried to forget the other infatuation, in another life-time.

'You had to die to get over that one', he mumbled, pouring out another glass. 

For that was something he could be certain of now. Even if he had harboured any love, any desire, for Alian at a certain point after returning from Mandos, it was gone. Possibly it had faded away a long time ago. Somehow it was the closeness they had once shared that held them together at present. A strange echo of love. For some reason he had been willing to settle for an echo of love, rather than find himself where he was currently; nowhere, suspended. But there was little else left, the choices had been made for him. 

The breath of wind that had accompanied the thunder made the rain fall slightly less straight, and he could feel drops hitting his face. Placing the half-empty bottle beside the chair, together with his glass, he stepped outside. Closing his eyes, he hoped for more raindrops. They came, but he was unsure if there could ever be enough to extinguish the fever that had manifested itself in his body. 

Lifting his face, he just stood there. 

Fingon made to step into the study, since in his opinion he had waited in the doorway long enough. A cautioning hand on his arm made him hesitate. Meeting the Elf-lady's eyes, she only smiled, before stepping inside in his stead. 

Nodding to himself, the Elf-lord concurred. It would be a better approach. 

Crossing the room, she never hesitated, taking advantage of that connection between them, one of those bonds that come from shared blood alone. By the Valar's grace, the boy that she had given birth to so long ago had been returned to her. Though it sometimes sounded strange to her own ears, she knew it was present, the link between mother and son, as it had been before. Not exactly a link of blood anymore, perhaps, but it had been preserved in the feä. The essence of the continued fusing mind and body, no doubt. 

'Ereinion, ion-nîn...' she whispered, placing her hand on the post of the balcony doors. 'Come inside.'

Obediently, he stepped back, and then joined her on the threshold. 

'Suilad, Naneth.'

Shaking her head, she looked pensively at him. 

'Be not like this.'

Momentarily he met her gaze. 

'It is nothing. Merely something I have to manage myself. Do not worry.' 

Taking a deep breath, she caught his hand in hers. 

'Ereinion, do not pretend to fool me,' she whispered, soft but resolute. 'You can no more keep your face from speaking than your father can.'

His only reaction seemed to be to stare outside, where the rain continued to fall. 

'You know not what it is that troubles me, Naneth,' he returned her whisper, casting down his eyes again.

She smiled gently and placed a hand on his arm, feeling his tunic moist with rain.

'I could guess, even if I will not.'

Eyes flashed back to meet hers, but only for an instant. He stayed silent. 

'It is certainly not uncommon among our people to open our heart for another only once. No one can blame you for bestowing that honour upon someone who is not able to accept it.' 

With dark eyes, Ereinion looked at her. He suddenly seemed strangely tired. 

'I do hope you do not believe this is about Alian.'

His mother looked at him for a long moment. When she did not speak at length, Ereinion smiled, a rare thing of late. 

'Alian,' he whispered, 'would have accepted me, had I not been so stubborn as to consider what we had together so very lightly. But that was a long time ago. I cannot deny I care for her deeply, but I do not love her. Not in the manner you think I do.'

The Elf-lady shook her head slowly, studying her son's face, hoping to find some further explanation there.

'Then there is someone else?'

Closing his eyes, Ereinion lowered his head and rested his chin on his chest.

'I have every hope this is merely a temporary thing. It will pass.'

'Why should you wish it to pass?'

She received no answer, but did not let it prevent her from asking further questions. 

'Someone you met at Imloth?'

Ereinion did not reply, but an almost unnoticeable squeeze in her hand seemed to be admission enough for his mother. 

'Does she know of your feelings for her?'

Snapping his head back, Ereinion looked at the Elf-lady in disbelief.  

'I... if I do not even precisely know what I feel, how would she?'

'Ereinion...'

'You do not understand,' he urged. 'I cannot put propriety at naught. I cannot allow myself to betray the trust that has been placed with me. I would betray both the lady it concerns as well as her parents, possibly her family. There is so much more at stake if I would speak up. If I remain silent, only I have to deal with the consequences. And most likely this is all a mere whim. I will be better in the morning.'

He smiled weakly at her. 

'Good night, Naneth.'

She looked at him a long time, but finally shook her head and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment, she rested her head against his shoulder, as much comfort as she thought he would allow. Then she left, her soft footsteps fading away, together with those who joined her at the door. 

Suppressing a shiver, Ereinion was well aware of his mother's desire for what was best for him. He had wanted to tell her how he truly felt, speak the words that were in his mind. There was love, yes, whether it was true love, or not, but there was also the feeling of defiling purity, a betrayal of innocence with thoughts alone. 

Lowering onto the chair again, he rested his head in his hands. Outside, the rain continued its downpour. 

--~~*~~--

Two times had Elrohir been ready to step inside, and two times had he changed his mind before even placing a hand on the door-handle. He was to bring a simple message, but had also been burdened with a greater one, even if it was not that obvious. 

With a growl that was to help him cross the threshold, he knocked shortly and entered the study. 

Seated on a sofa, one leg resting over the other, a book in his lap, Ereinion looked up inquisitively. Elrohir demonstratively held up his gloves. 

'We are riding now.'

A nod, and a faint glimmer of a smile from the High Prince. 

'Ah, yes, of course. Give my best wishes to everyone.'

Taking some further paces into the chamber, Elrohir smiled, uncertain of how to proceed, but proceeding nevertheless. 

'I would much rather let you do that yourself,' he started, meeting Ereinion's eyes. 'You cannot claim to be busy at present, and I do not think some days of absence would cause much trouble.'

He observed the other Elf slowly shut the book he had been reading, leaving it in his lap, as long fingers thoughtfully drummed the cover. The proposal was seriously considered, something Elrohir could not have hoped for. To describe the High Prince's recent behaviour as being low in spirits was an understatement, and he had not been certain enticing Ereinion to come to Imloth would be received well at present, since Imloth could be partially blamed for the mood. But it was contemplated. 

The drumming halted. 

'How long do you plan to stay?'

Keeping himself from grinning broadly, Elrohir shook his head. 

'Aurehen will be giving birth soon, if I am informed correctly. It was my intention to stay for at least three days, which would theoretically have you back in Tirion in time for the next Council meeting.'

'Hmm, yes,' Ereinion replied, staring at the bookshelves across the room. 'It would indeed.'

--~~*~~--

'But look who dashes through the hallway there.'

Mîrlinde smiled as Celebriníel halted and turned. Aurehen and Celebrían chuckled. 

Sighing with exasperation, Celebriníel neared the three ladies and dropped onto the sofa beside her mother. She looked up at Mîrlinde. 

'Will Elernil come with Elrohir?'

Moving some of the young Elf's hair behind her ear, Mîrlinde nodded. 

'Elrohir said he would. Tirion was calm, neither of them will be needed.'

'Perhaps the Wise have discussed all,' Aurehen offered. 

'It doubt it,' Mîrlinde replied with a grin. 'They always find something. But truly, Elrohir said that even the Council meetings have been reduced in number to twice a week. Then again, they usually are when summer is at its high.' 

'Especially the Wise appreciate the high of Laer,' Celebrían smiled knowingly. 

Aurehen changed position, grimacing as she pressed her hand against her back. 

'Leaving Laer as it is, I imagine you welcomed Stirring with much relief in Middle-earth.'

Handing her daughter-in-law a pillow, Celebrían smiled playfully.

'Yes, with Elrond being gloomy in winter, the change of seasons was very welcome.' 

'I thought Ada liked winter?' Celebriníel frowned. 

Celebrían nodded, but could not suppress a laugh. 

'He does now, when there are no companies of Dwarves in his house, or packs of hungry Dúnedain. Or those eternal messengers arriving carrying letters. Aman is a different place, compared to that. Different things to enjoy.'

'He changed?'

'Surroundings changed, I think he simply adjusted.' 

'Elrohir changed,' Mîrlinde said thoughtfully. 'There was a restlessness about him that he left in Middle-earth, or at least on the ship that brought us here.'

Celebriníel lost most of her interest at that point, too preoccupied with the thought of visitors. Perhaps she could ride back with Elrohir and Elernil to visit the library in Tirion. It would be a nice change from the rather uninteresting surroundings of Imloth. 

Rising from the sofa she smiled a wordless apology to her mother and continued her way again, into the direction of her father's study. Soon, her grandparents would arrive also, she knew, which would at least provide some disruption of this monotony. Her grandfather would no doubt be looking forward to inspecting her progress, and she could ask his help with some of the complex manuscripts Elrohir had brought from Tirion last time. 

Her father had offered his help, but spending time in too close proximity of Arinmîr, who after all was her father's student, did not appeal to her much. 

No, her grandfather would do better, she smiled, stepping into the library. After a short scan of the area she decided her father was neither here, nor in the adjoining study. This left few other options. Her eyes fell on a stack of papers neatly lying nearby. Not more than a glance was necessary for her to see what was written on them. With a broad smile she left the papers where they were for now, and stepped onto the balcony.

Elrond had comfortably seated himself there some time ago, keeping an intent eye on the road while giving his thoughts the liberty to wander where they wished. 

He had heard his daughter enter the rooms beyond, had listened to her move some papers which still lay on the table, documents which held clarifications on the manuscripts he knew she was examining. Somehow she had been reluctant to ask for his assistance, and he had watched her work at times, uncertain whether she would accept his help. 

'Ada?'

He looked up to find her smiling at him, her face radiant as ever. 

'Briníel?'

'Thank you.'

'My pleasure.'

Extending an arm to her, he was pleased to see her catch his hand before sitting down beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. Pensively, he stroked her hair. 

'Quite interesting subject, I have to say.'

'Oh, it is,' she said with a nod, her eyes fixed on the same road as his were, her fingers playing with one of the buttons of his tunic. 'They are late.'

'Yes, they are.' Elrond replied simply. 

_Too much alike_, he thought privately, _the two of us_. It was strange to see his own ways in her manner, not entirely speaking her mind, but her answers telling him more than enough. As no doubt his answers revealed a great deal to her. 

'Daeradar and Daernaneth, you think they will arrive tomorrow?'

'Knowing your grandmother, they'll be right on time.' Narrowing his eyes, Elrond nodded into the direction of the road. 'But there we have three riders, which is one more than expected, but does explain their delay.' 

Sitting up, Celebriníel frowned.

'Who is it?'

'Unless I am very much mistaken, the third rider is Ereinion.'

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Laer: summer, period between modern June 1st and August 11th

Stirring: spring (also Sindarin "Ethuil"), period from April 8th to May 31st

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	21. When It Is Right

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Special thanks to everyone who reviewed last time. You all rock! :)) And also to kalurien and Case, for putting up with me. ;)

**Finch**: I don't think there are second parents. I know 'The Converse of Manwë and Eru' (Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth, Morgoth's Ring) seems to indicate otherwise, but I sort of like the idea of the re-made bodies of those who are rehoused starting out as children as well. There's this strange image of Mandos delivering an elvish care-package to the old parents in my mind (yes, my mind is a weird place ;)).  
I can't believe I just compared Ereinion to a care-package...

**Earonn**, this one is for you, with many thanks for providing me with the things that fuel my muse. *bows* :))

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**Chapter Twenty     When It Is Right**

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With a content sound Celebrían welcomed Elrond's warm body against hers. She had been between sleeping and waking for a while now, but there was no need to rise just yet. Her husband evidently agreed as he secured an arm around her which he used to pull her closer, softly kissing her neck. 

'Aer maer, meleth-nîn,' he whispered, nuzzling her hair. 

'Aer maer, herven,' she replied, closing her eyes again. 

Outside, early birds chattered merrily, but Celebrían paid them little heed. The beat of Elrond's heart, his regular breathing, his warmth against her, it all contributed to a nice peaceful mood, and it lulled her back into her half-sleep of before.   

Unable to determine how much later, she woke to a soft humming, close by, fingers playing with her hair. Sighing she turned in Elrond's arms and rested her head against his chest, hearing him chuckle. 

'It was a pleasant evening, last night.'

'Oh, yes,' she replied languorously, not caring whether she was dreaming or not. 'Ereinion seems well.' 

'I thought so,' Elrond answered, resting his head on hers. 'And it was good Elernil came, Briníel does not seem very comfortable with Arinmîr. Although I might have imagined that, last night nothing appeared to be amiss.'

Celebrían laughed softly. She felt Elrond shift.

'What?'

'Nothing.' She chuckled. 

He eyed her curiously. 

'You make that hard to believe.'

Pressing her lips against his chest in a conciliatory manner, she reflected on why exactly she was amused. Celebriníel had indeed been remarkably amiable with Arinmîr last night. If she did not know any better, she would think it was to make someone jealous. Except there had been no one that had any cause to be envious. 

Slipping her arm around Elrond's chest, Celebrían ran two fingers down her husband's spine and felt him move closer. 

'She is growing up so fast,' he whispered, brushing his lips against his wife's forehead. 

Celebrían withdrew a little to observe his face.

'Are you turning sentimental, El-nîn?'

'In my old age, you mean?' he shot back, his eyes full of mirth. 

Grinning, Celebrían confirmed. 

'It must be that half-elven element in you...' 

Growling, he guided her back. 

'All that Edain blood still pulsing through my veins...'

Celebrían had a hard time to cease laughing, especially since Elrond managed to keep such a degree of seriousness. A moment later, his mouth was on hers, and she was forced to stop, giving in to his embrace. 

'Wonderful Edain blood pulsing...' she whispered into his ear as he kissed her neck, and she could distinguish a silent chuckle from him. 

--~~*~~--

Quite awake, Celebriníel kicked forward the front of her dress, soaked due to her strolling through wet grass for most of the morning, and clinging to her legs uncomfortably. It was not unusual for her to be awake this early, but rarely was she only one of the few, which appeared to be the case presently. Erestor had been in the library, but he had been immersed in some manuscript or other, and she had left him to it. Her mind was not on her studies.

The evening before had lasted well into the night, there had been wine and storytelling aplenty, and yet it caused her to be up now, instead of comfortably in her chambers. She had not slept, not really. Changed into her nightdress, yes, and attempted to rest, but after a mere hour, she had risen again. Dressing warmly against the early-morning chill, she had walked without considering whereto, only the stars and some rays of early Anar as company. 

Upon reaching the summit of one of the higher hills near Imloth, morning light had greeted her brightly, and she had simply stayed there, only vaguely recalling her thoughts had been far away. 

It was quite impossible to explain what caused her to feel as she did. She was also incapable of telling whether the previous night had been enjoyable or the complete opposite. In a way, she was still angry with Ereinion for leaving so abruptly when he had last visited Imloth, even if she seemed to be the only one reacting that way. She had avoided him on purpose, addressing him only when absolutely necessary. But he had not noticed her distance at all. Possibly this had only irritated her further. But why was she angry? It was not as if it was any of her concern. If her parents did not mind his behaviour of before, there was no reason for her to... 

Annoyed, she kicked the wet material away again. 

Ereinion had acted much as she remembered he had when younger; discussing, teasing, laughing with everyone. For the sake of such normalcy, she had tried to do the same, even granting Arinmîr more than the usual cold shoulder. 

But despite her personal feelings, she was glad the High Prince had returned. His boisterous manner cheered her father out of pensiveness, and the stories they could tell together were a delight to listen to. There had been moments when she could have sworn he looked at her, when she was speaking with Arinmîr, but she had not been able to confirm those suspicions. Most likely she had just imagined it. Feeling her cheeks redden, she breathed in deeply. _You are being so silly, Celebriníel..._

As soon as her grandparents arrived, all would be well again, she was certain. 

She nodded to herself.

These feelings were merely caused by her own nerves, because she had missed her grandparents. With a sigh she halted and caught part of her dress, wringing some of the water out of it, not being very successful. 

'Morning, Celebriníel.'

_That voice..._

Abruptly she turned to face the approaching Elf, knowing her cheeks were still red, wishing they were not. 

'Morning...'

--~~*~~--

Ereinion woke to the sound of birds, stirring in surroundings which confused him for a moment, since he had been vividly dreaming of being at Lindon; being home. Curiously, he still considered that region far away as "home". 

And yet there were many things from recent years that had inserted themselves into his dream, making it a strange mixture of the past and present, confusingly so.

It was as it had been for a some time now, as it had been ever since that fateful day that he had fled Imloth, after laying eyes on the girl. He now knew what he had not before, and with more certainty than anything else. Heloved her. __

In his dreams, faithful deceivers that they were, she was his, in his dreams, his lust for her was no sin, not the terrible transgression it was in reality. 

He turned and pressed his face into the pillows of the bed he had slept in for as long as her father had welcomed him into the house. The bed that had been offered to rest in, not to be shared by another's flesh, nor by his own foolish dreams. He could feel his desire, having been woken by her likeness, by the images that so oft visited him. 

Something had driven him to Imloth, a whim really. He had simply wanted to test his reaction. For some reason, he had convinced himself it had been his earlier confused state causing him to act as he had, convinced himself that reality would cure him soon enough. That one look at Celebriníel was enough to make it all go away, enough to make him laugh at the idea alone afterwards, that his own mind had put him through such agony. 

But how wrong he had been. How very, very wrong...

And yet, he thought, turning onto his back again with a sigh, there had been a moment of complete happiness, just now, before he woke to be confronted with the true state of things. 

It was a good thing she had not approached him yesterday, had not lain her hand on his arm, had not fixed those marvellous fiery eyes on him, defending her opinions. Not that her closeness with Arinmîr the previous evening did not worry him. But it was not his affair. He could only hope for her to be happy. 

Pulling away the covers, he rose and crossed the room, stepping barefoot onto the balcony. There was no denying that the summer morning was fiercely cold. He suppressed a shiver, only dressed in the comfortable but thin tunic and trousers he slept in. The afternoon would no doubt be blistering hot. Stretching his limbs, Ereinion inhaled in deeply. Upon letting his gaze wander down into the gardens below, he thought his heart would stop beating the next instant. 

He observed Celebriníel and Arinmîr, disconcertingly close for his comfort. 

Grabbing a firm hold of the balustrade, he watched the young Elf place a tender hand on Celebriníel's cheek, before edging closer for a merging of lips. 

Other than increasing his grasp on the balustrade, Ereinion did not budge, could somehow not tear away from the scene taking place a little further down. He listened carefully, perhaps for a sound of unwillingness from the silver-haired lady, so he could justify descending into the garden to protect her honour. But there came no such sound. His only consolation was that Celebriníel did not seem to respond, no hand reaching up to touch Arinmîr's face or anything similar. She merely stood there, eyes closed, her left hand clutching the side of her dress. 

It seemed like an eternity before Arinmîr pulled away. 

With the Elf blocking his view, Ereinion could not see the expression on Celebriníel's face, but the next moment she was making her way inside, leaving Arinmîr in her wake. 

Guessing the young Elf would not follow, Ereinion found himself halfway through the room, shrugging on a tunic. As he sped through the hallway, he had the full intention of heading towards the garden, entirely ready to confront Arinmîr in as imposing a manner as he was able to muster. 

Any intentions he had vanished when he halted halfway down the stairs, confronted with Celebriníel. 

She looked up at him in surprise, but did not speak a word, simply stared back. 

Opening his mouth, Ereinion attempted to gather enough words to form a coherent sentence.  

'Are you... I saw... I mean...' 

Uttering no sound at all, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him, pressing her face against his shoulder. Gathering her in his arms, he rested his head against hers, stroking her back, any anger he had previously harboured forgotten for the time being. 

'It is all right...' he whispered, not caring if it made sense. 'Everything will be fine.' 

How long they had stood like that before Ereinion realised how they had to look, he himself still partially dressed in his sleeping attire, and Celebriníel obviously upset, he could not tell. Discretely withdrawing, he motioned her to take his arm and they ascended the stairway, halting a moment at the top. 

'Do you wish me to take you to your rooms?'

'No,' she shook her head resolutely. 'I wish to sit down a moment, somewhere where he cannot find me.'

Considering his options, Ereinion took a deep breath.

'My rooms, but you will have to give me a moment to finish dressing.'

Celebriníel nodded, her eyes cheerless. Making an appeasing sound, he took her hand. 

'It was only a kiss, Briníel. It does not mean you are obligated to spend the remainder of Arda with him.'

She nodded again, attempting to smile, failing miserably.

'Come on,' he smiled, in an attempt to reassure her. 

Guiding her down the hall quickly, he opened the door leading to his rooms, enabling them both to enter. 

'I will only be a moment,' he told her, disappearing into the adjoining chamber. 

Uneasy, Celebriníel lowered onto the chair, resting her arm on the desk beside it, accidentally disturbing some papers. She quickly withdrew her arm and concentrated on controlling her breath, focussing on her surroundings. 

It had been some time since she had last been here. Not much had changed, there had been more piles of books in the past, but most furniture remained where it had always been. Observing the large bed, the disarray of the sheets made it seem as if Ereinion had only just stepped out. Which was probably precisely what had been the case, she reflected. 

For a moment, she contemplated departing, but before she could make up her mind, he had returned, fastening a last wayward button of yet another tunic. He looked at her, a questioning look in his eyes. 

'How do you feel?'

'I...' she shook her head and returned his gaze. 'Is it strange I am angry with him?' 

For a moment he stared down at her, then slowly shook his head. 

'Not at all.'

She nodded. 

'Well, I am angry.'

She listened to him chuckle at her reply, and half-heartedly did the same. Then she fixed her eyes on the floor. 

'He just kissed me, he knows I did not...' It seemed hard to find words at present. 'I wonder if I... I was just treating him as I treat everyone else.' She looked up as she uttered the last sentence. 

Sitting down on a chest standing by the foot of the bed, Ereinion rested his hands on his knees. 

'You know, on occasion,' he said slowly, folding his hands, 'when you feel very strongly about someone, certain actions are easily misinterpreted. They can appear to mean things while they actually do not.'

Ereinion was more than ready to kick himself. _Can you possibly be any more vague?_

Celebriníel seemed occupied with her own thoughts. 

'Because I was nice to Arinmîr, he thought I was attempting to tell him something?' she said finally.

It was hard not to rise and go to her, especially after her exasperated tone of voice. Hard not to catch her hands and press his lips against her fingers, kiss her face to chase the looming tears away. 

'He might have thought that, yes.'

She wanted him to embrace her again, or merely place an arm around her, some of the physical contact of before. But she was uncertain as to how this could be accomplished. 

On the steps, it had been impulse, and that, somehow was forgivable, where now reason had returned. Well, some reason, in any case. 

As she rose she did not meet his gaze, but he rose with her. 

'Perhaps I should go...'

'Briníel...'

He reached out for her hand, and as soon as she caught it, she stepped closer while he drew her in. Resting an ear against his chest, she listened to his rapid heartbeat, felt his fingers touch her hair for a moment, brush past her other ear... 

She felt her own breath become irregular and looked up, to find his face closer than expected.

'Ereinion...'

He looked at her, his eyes smiling, something about him positively shining. 

_Is this the difference?_ she absently wondered, closing her eyes. _Is this what it feels like when it is right?_

She felt one of his hands move to her cheek and his breath on her skin. Then his lips touched her forehead. 

'You are the mistress of your own life, Celebriníel,' he whispered, leaving her with not much else to do than nod in response. 

Somewhere, far away it seemed, voices could be distinguished.

'Your grandparents,' he commented evenly, moving some hair out of her face.

'I know,' she replied, stepping away, needing a moment before she dared to meet his eyes. 'Thank you.'

'No thanks are necessary,' he returned, with what seemed to be a short bow of the head. 

Together they moved towards the door and departed the rooms. Celebriníel was quick to make for the stairway, only looking back when she was two steps down. She smiled. 

Ereinion nodded and returned the expression, one hand still on the handle of the door. As she continued down, he merely stood there, eyes fixed on a now vacant spot on the stairs.

Finally he shook off his contemplation and descended as well. 

Neither Ereinion nor Celebriníel had noticed that the window-seat a little further down the hallway had been occupied. The reason for this could very well be because the occupant had done everything in his power to stay unobserved. 

It was true that Glorfindel might have still been experiencing some of the less agreeable after-effects of the quantities of wine he had imbibed the evening before, but by no means had the events in the garden and here in the hallway escaped his attention. 

With a raised eyebrow he had noticed Arinmîr kiss Celebriníel, as well as the young lady's subsequent hasty departure, but before he could have reacted on anything, his attention had been called to Ereinion storming out of his chambers. Since there had been little doubt in Glorfindel's mind that the High Prince was perfectly able to deal with the situation on his own, he had patiently waited for what was to come. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what had followed though. For a single moment he had even been somewhat disappointed when Ereinion had returned with Celebriníel, since it had made a confrontation in the garden unlikely. 

Swinging a leg thoughtfully, Glorfindel smiled. But perhaps this was even better. 

'Very interesting,' he mused, staring into the hall for a moment. 

_The evening before_, he questioned himself, _had there been anything particular about it?_

Ereinion had been more good-humoured than expected. The reports from Tirion had led Glorfindel to expect the High Prince's disposition to be gloomy, but nothing had indicated towards that yesterday. Rather the complete opposite. 

And Celebriníel, where had she been... Glorfindel frowned. Everywhere but near Ereinion, now that he came to think of it. 

How long had this been going on? How long could it have been going on? What _was_ going on?

Slowly Glorfindel's thoughts began to get clearer. 

With Celebriníel still several years from reaching her majority, he could be quite certain Ereinion had not initiated anything. 

So, was this the protecting behaviour of a cousin who only meant well, or was there more behind it? 

Arinmîr approaching Celebriníel had not been surprising at all. Glorfindel had not expected the young Elf to act upon his feelings so openly, true, but it had been a matter of time. 

But Ereinion... If he had gone out into the garden to speak with Arinmîr, Glorfindel would not have given it another thought; the High Prince had always been fond of his best friend's daughter. But the mere manner with which he had watched over Celebriníel upon bringing her to his chambers, the small careful gestures that he had adopted automatically, and more specifically the look in his eyes when he gazed after her, told half of the story. 

Celebriníel was harder to fathom. But he would try, Glorfindel nodded to himself. He would pay very close attention to the both of them indeed. 

Starting right this instant.

With a veer in his tread he had not dared adopt earlier, for fear of increasing the pounding in his head, the golden-haired Elf-lord descended the stairway. 

He could not withhold a grin when observing those gathered to greet Celeborn and Galadriel. Celebriníel was animatedly speaking to her grandfather, while Ereinion, hands behind his back, made polite conversation with Galadriel, Erestor by his side. Even paying close attention, Glorfindel could not distinguish any furtive glances from the High Prince towards Celebriníel. He seemed quite absorbed in the exchange with the Lady Galadriel. 

That was, until Arinmîr entered the house from the gardens. It would have been impolite to just merely wander off without greeting the visitors from the Gardens of Lórien, but it had to be a very unpleasant experience for the young Elf. 

If Celebriníel avoided his eyes, Ereinion definitely did not. 

The High Prince was tall, but on occasions like these, he had the uncanny ability to appear even taller. Or perhaps Arinmîr was growing smaller with each step he took while under the scrutinizing gaze. At a certain point Celebriníel chanced a glance at Ereinion, how exactly Glorfindel was not able to make out, but it caused the blaze in Ereinion's eyes to subside, though his stern expression was by no means gone. 

'Glorfindel, I cannot begin to imagine why you would have such an expression of sheer enjoyment on your features.'

The Elf-lord turned to find Celebrían standing beside him and Elrond, who had spoken, descending the stairway, occupied with the sleeves of his robes. 

'Was I?' he remarked innocently, making sure his face was a expressionless as he could possibly achieve. 'Very strange, I cannot tell you precisely why.'

Meeting Celebrían's eyes, Glorfindel noticed she too had observed Ereinion and Celebriníel, and had perceived some undercurrent as well. She made to speak, but was cut short by a call from above, Elladan speeding through one of the galleries.

'Naneth, Aurehen says it has started.'

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Aer maer: good morning

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So, what is it to be? Boy or girl? Because I haven't entirely made up my mind yet... 


	22. Births and Admissions

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

My thanks, as usual, to everyone who reviewed, and to kalurien, Case, and my mother (who seems to consider herself the protector of all things Elladan & Aurehen now) *g*   
I bow to everyone on LiveJournal who helped me out by voting, but my special thanks go to Rose Red, who came up with the wonderful idea of twins (and some of the... specifics ;))). 

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**Chapter Twenty-One Births and Admissions ******

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Crossing the room for about the seventh time, patiently studying the faces of those gathered waiting yet again, Ereinion reached Elrond, who stood by the window, gazing outside with a small smile on his lips. 

'You are not needed inside?'

Elrond looked at him, then shook his head, still that selfsame smile on his face. 

'Somehow,' he said, 'I believe both Aurehen and Elladan are very content with me right where I am.'

'Ah,' Ereinion nodded, before tilting his head slightly. 'And you do not have that irresistible urge to be there? Be helpful?'

Raising an effective eyebrow, Elrond did not need to explain, but nevertheless continued to.

'I trust Celebrían knows what to do. In a sense, she has more experience in the matter than I. And it is a birth, Ereinion. I am not a midwife.'

'I recall a feeling you had, something to do with infirmaries and those in them, of always wanting to know everything, be present, no matter what.'

'Quite a different matter.'

'Perhaps.'

'Most assuredly.'

The High Prince crossed his arms and raised an inquisitive eyebrow, a distinct attempt to emulate his friends gesture of before.

'Celebrían forbade you to enter, did she?' 

Elrond made a dismissive sound and looked outside again. It took some time before he answered, quietly, but again the smile playing around his lips, causing Ereinion to chuckle amusedly. 

'She did.'

--~~*~~--

A definite red glow was distinguishable on his cheeks as Elladan walked around the bed. He was handed a dark-haired and grey-eyed baby girl by Aurehen's mother Aryanrë. With a shake of the head, he looked at Aurehen. 

'She is beautiful...'

Celebrían smiled as she stroked the head of the small child lying in Aurehen's arms, then looked up at her son. 

'They both are.'

'Let me get Ada,' Elladan grinned, holding his daughter close to his chest, before carefully making his way into the next room, where most of the household was gathered. Elrond neared from the other end of the room at once, and with a broad smile Elladan handed the small girl over to his father. 

'Adar, meet my eldest daughter.'

It only took a moment before Elrond tore away his gaze from the small girl in his arms.

'Elladan...'

From the far end of the room, Elrohir, sitting beside Mîrlinde, chuckled loudly. 

'By Elbereth, that look on your face, Adar, was worth every minute of keeping quiet all that time.'

Slowly, Elrond studied the faces of those assembled in the room, as he handed the child over to Aurehen's father, Dîrhûn. 

Celeborn smiled knowingly, his arm through Celebriníel's, who looked too innocent to deceive her father. Galadriel avoided Elrond's gaze as she neared to examine her great-grandchild. Ereinion and Elernil had wisely commenced in an articulate discussion about... Elrond did not believe they themselves knew for certain. Glorfindel adequately hid any hint of knowledge he might have had on the subject, and Erestor simply kept his face devoid of anything, though his eyes twinkled. 

'Come,' his son smiled, taking his arm. 

Even if he felt slightly irritated due to the little secret that had been kept from him, it all felt trivial as Aurehen at length handed him the other girl, essentially identical to the first. 

For a moment he was reminded of his own firstborn, now long grown and independent, and he shook his head as he sat down on the foot of the bed. 

'What, El-nîn?' Celebrían asked him as she rested her head against his shoulder from behind, watching the child with him. 

'Nothing, absolutely nothing...' he whispered, as small fingers closed around his larger index-finger. 'Just somewhat overwhelmed.'

--~~*~~--

Elrond laughed with Ereinion, despite having just been informed of the High Prince's imminent departure. But there would be enough taking place soon to occupy him, he knew. And he looked forward to it. 

It was Elrohir, together with Celebriníel who stepped onto the balcony as well.

'Adar, Naneth lets you know Aurehen and the twins will soon rest, so if you wish to say goodnight to your granddaughters you should do so presently.' 

'Excuse me,' Elrond winked at Ereinion, 'my grandfatherly duties call vehemently.'

As he reached the threshold he looked back. 

'You do not wish to accompany me?'

With a smile, Ereinion shook his head. 

'Give Aurehen my best, and tell her to be strict with the youngest members of the household. For I sincerely suspect their grandfather will spoil them to no end.'

Chuckling, Elrond left, and Celebriníel stepped onto the balcony, Elrohir still in the doorway. Ereinion looked at his friend's son.

'So, are we to expect any additions on your side, Elrohir?'

Smiling broadly, Elrohir raised an eyebrow. 

'I would find it highly unlikely. We shall leave further expansion of the House to my sister here.' 

Celebriníel frowned. 

'In which case I advise you to not hold you breath, muindor-nîn.'

Elrohir smiled. 

'And I must inform you that your guess on hair colours was correct, as usual. Not very surprising, this time, though.'

'No, indeed it was not,' Ereinion smiled. 

Looking from one adult to the other, Celebriníel raised a questioning eyebrow.

'You have contests on children's hair colours?'

Nodding earnestly, Elrohir grinned. 

'Just do not tell Elladan. He thought because it concerned his children we would not even try.'

At this, Ereinion smirked and turned towards the garden again. 

Shaking her head, Celebriníel sighed. 

'That is just typical.'

'Ereinion predicted your hair colour,' Elrohir returned, smiling pleasantly. He could not help hold back a laugh as he watched Ereinion's shoulders tense. 

'Truly?' Celebriníel asked, resting a hand on Ereinion's arm as Elrohir retreated. 

'Hmm, yes,' he replied, trying to ignore her touch. 

'My brothers said dark-haired then, I gather?'

'That they did.'

'Why did you think differently?'

Ereinion turned towards her and thought for a moment. 

'I think your grandmother asked me at the time... I still cannot say how exactly I knew, but I just did.'

She smiled at him, and he could not help return it. He tilted his head.

'You have not had any... problems with Arinmîr?'

Slowly shaking her head, Celebriníel gave him a reassuring look. 

'He stays with his parents, mostly, and I stay with Daeradar.'

Ereinion grinned.

'Another one of those Elf-lords who scare away irritating young Elves naturally?'

Chuckling out loud, she nodded.

'Precisely.'

'Celebriníel?'

They turned as one, Celebriníel letting her hand slip from his arm, making Ereinion very self-conscious, to find Glorfindel behind them. 

'Yes?' she asked. 

'Your father is looking for you.'

Gazing up at Ereinion, Celebriníel smiled and went inside. Glorfindel watched her go and stepped onto the balcony. 

'Does Elrond seek her?' Ereinion asked, eyes fixing on the darkening sky. 

Frowning, Glorfindel studied his face. 

'What makes you think he is not?'

'I do not know.' Ereinion shook his head. 'Forget I asked.' 

Glorfindel looked at him, and slowly unknotted his brow from the frown. 

'If you wish to talk...'

'No...' he glanced at the other Elf. 'But thank you, Glorfindel.'

Nodding shortly, Glorfindel stepped back.

'Be sure to ask, if you do... I mean, well...' 

Turning and leaning against the balustrade with his back, Ereinion nodded, giving the other a more reassuring look than was in truth appropriate. 

'I will, be sure of it.'

Glorfindel left, and he turned again, facing the gardens. 

'Leave it to Glorfindel to find these things out,' he mumbled. 

'Find what out?'

The last voice he would have expected, and he feared it belonged to the first person who had it in her to pull a confession from him. 

'Celebrían, my congratulations on your granddaughters.'

She smiled her thanks. 

'The third time you have congratulated me today, Ereinion.'

He feigned a laugh. 

'Ah yes, I admit my guilt.'

As the words left his lips he regretted them instantly. Whispering a fast entreaty to Elbereth, he hoped the Elf-lady had not noticed. 

'I do not believe such an admission of guilt is quite necessary, is it?'

He shook his head quickly. 

'Yes... No... No, of course not.'

_Say it often enough and you will come to believe it, Ereinion, you fool_, he told himself, pressing his lips together.

Celebrían moved beside him and rested her elbows on the stone barrier. 

'Do you know, grandchildren cause me to become conscious of all the foolish things I have done.'

Glad that she had brought the conversation into steadier waters, Ereinion smiled.

'I would not believe you to do foolish things.'

She chuckled quietly, and looked down into the garden. 

'I made my first, and I believe greatest mistake when I came to Imladris with my mother to seek my father.'

Raising an eyebrow he looked at her, but she still stared into the garden. 

'What makes you say that?'

As if she recalled the moment long-ago of which she spoke, she laughed, more to herself than to anyone else. 

'I should have thrown myself at him then and there. It would have spared both of us a lot of individual heartache.' She looked at Ereinion and smiled, as if to challenge him to prove the opposite. 

'At that time, I do believe the only way in which anyone could have made Elrond Peredhil take notice was to stretch oneself across his desk,' Ereinion grinned. 

Laughing heartily, Celebrían looked at him. 

'I should have.'

'But you would have taken away all that pleasure I obtained from teasing him with you over the years that followed.'

'Oh yes, of course, no, that would not do,' she replied, trying to keep a serious face. 

They were both silent briefly, both reminded of years past, mistakes made, and small moments which had more than made up for all those mistakes. Celebrían glimpsed at Ereinion before she spoke again. 

'He thought, though he will never admit it, that I was too young at the time.'

'Either that, or he feared your father greatly,' Ereinion teased with a smile.

Narrowing her eyes, she looked at him again, and he felt her rest a hand on his arm, just as her daughter had, only this did not disconcert him as much. 

'It is hard,' she said, 'to see someone you have known from childhood, all grown up, especially if you had already reached maturity years before. To be confronted with feelings you think are not allowed, not in place.'

He stared at her, not knowing what to say. How much did she suspect? Was this just an accidental conversation, or was she trying to help him, trying to tell him... Tell him what? Opening his mouth, he closed it again and thought a moment before deciding on an answer that would allow him as much space to move around in as was possible. 

'It is.'

'He had good reason to not bind himself, though. For many years, there was that ever-rational excuse of _duty_...' she spoke the final word with more than slight disdain, but there was no real anger. 'Be very sure you have a good excuse, Ereinion,' she went on. 'Do not think responsibility, or propriety, is a good enough excuse to lie to your heart.' 

She watched him a moment, then stepped closer and pressed her lips against his cheek. Ereinion closed his eyes, to find she had left when he opened them again.

--~~*~~--

Elladan sat cross-legged on the bed, the two elf-children lying in front of him, fast asleep. Curiously he touched a small fist, inspected a foot, only to place a protective hand on a small chest, all the while amazed at how small they were. Aurehen watched him, tired but content. 

Finally he shook his head. 

'I feel like my father.'

With a smile Aurehen reached out to touch the head of the nearest of her daughters.

'How do you mean?' 

'Elrohir and I, when Arwen was born, we never truly understood... My father, he lived for that, for this, his family. After we had reached our maturity, he wished another child greatly. I find I only understand this feeling now that I am a father myself.' 

'Your father is known for fostering many of your kin, of his brother's line. In many ways, he was father to many children. But to wish for descendants of his own flesh and blood is understandable.'

Slowly Elladan nodded. 

'That it had to be him whose family was pulled apart is perhaps the more tragic.'

Aurehen smiled.

'He does not seem to think it so. Celebriníel has healed much old hurt.'

Elladan nodded slowly, then lifted the eldest of his children tenderly. She did not wake, just moved her small arms a fraction and rested her head against his chest. He smiled. 

From her resting position, Aurehen had watched him for much of the evening, how he had studied, listened, and simply watched over his children. Somehow he had seemed afraid at first, as if hands that had wielded weapons for so long a time were not able to be gentle. She knew how true the opposite was. She had known it even before. 

Finally he rose from the bed, and carried the child to the small cradle which stood nearby. There had only been one until this afternoon, but very soon after the birth that a second cradle had appeared beside it. Aurehen sighed softly at the recollection of when she first discovered she was to give birth to twin girls. If twins were rare in Elvish society, twin girls were even more so. 

What had it been that Elrond told her, on the eve of Celebriníel's birth? Expect the unexpected when it concerns Halfelven children? _Certainly true_, she thought, as she watched Elladan put the second girl to bed, gently pulling a small blanket over her sleeping form. 

This time he did not linger, and returned to her swiftly. Settling close, he rested a comfortable arm around her. Aurehen rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep, even if she knew Elladan would not follow just yet. 

The proud father sat watching silently, first at his wife, the mother of his two new daughters, who gave in to the rest she so much needed and deserved. But out of their own accord, his eyes wandered back to the cradles on the other side of the chamber eventually. 

His ears strained themselves from time to time as to be able to hear every small sound. Several times he had to hold himself back from rising to make certain everything was well. 

He would indeed speak with his father of this, Elladan decided, resting back against the pillows. There were sure to be some helpful suggestions to be obtained from a father of four, and foster father of many. _But not now_, he smiled. Vividly recalling the nights his parents had spent awake during the period in which Celebriníel had started to grow teeth, he decided it was better to get as much rest as they could, while it was still possible. With a kiss to Aurehen's brow, he too succumbed to sleep, and the wandering of the fields of dreams. 

--~~*~~--

It did not matter how he entered her rooms, or why he had come, only that he was there, with her. 

His hands were cold when he finally touched her, circling her exposed flesh, and she could do nothing but lie back and submit herself to it. His lips were the direct opposite, hot, so very hot on her skin, travelling everywhere at once. 

'Im aníra dîn-mîl...' she heard him whisper against her neck, and the words only made her draw him closer. 

His mouth was on hers suddenly, her own hands slid over his body, and she felt an arm slip underneath her back, lifting her slightly, making her arch against him. 

She could feel every muscle in his body, every sinewy curve pressed against her. There were no words to be voiced, she could only try to catch enough breath to enable herself to go on, as he moved, moved inside her, kissed her, loved her. 

One of her hands found its way to his side, her other arm she positioned around his neck. 

_Ereinion, I love you..._ she told him hoarsely, overcome with all the feelings that were flowing through her. His fingers stroked her thighs, and she almost did not realise it, though the feeling contributed to the overall surge of desire in her... 

With a gasp Celebriníel sat up, breathing intensely. It did not take more than a moment for her to realise it had been a dream. A lovely, terrible, deceitful dream. 

Somehow she had managed to entangle herself in the sheets and with some difficulty she straightened them out, before she slipped from the bed. Stumbling to the other side of the chamber, she rested her hands on the sides of the basin and took a deep breath, before splashing her face with lukewarm water. 

'Oh, Elbereth,' she whispered, looking at her reflection in the small mirror above the basin, her cheeks red, her ears the same. Her next urge was to chuckle. Never had she dreamt in quite this manner before. So what was it precisely in the High Prince that caused her to react like this? 

He was kind, not too unpleasant, she smiled. He sometimes seemed uncomfortable in her presence, and yet he seemed to seek her out. And somehow he was a mixture of past and present, in a way she could not explain. Ereinion was both old, as well as young. Of Middle-earth, like her parents and brothers, as well as undeniably of Aman, as she was. 

But this dream... 

'Cari-im mîl hon?' she asked her own reflection. 

She waited for an answer a moment or two, knowing very well it would not come. 

Then she returned to her bed and curled up, attempting to find some rest again. 

--~~*~~--

On the other side of the house, there was another who had been woken by a dream, but unlike Celebriníel, he took no effort to find sleep again. 

_How strange_, Ereinion thought as he leant against the post of the balcony door. It was not usual that a dream would wake him so completely. 

_And such a dream_, he sighed. 

At least he had learned that which he had wanted to find out. And somehow, he felt better because of it. 

These dreams, he thought, would merely have to be kept private. Very private. 

And he would go back to Tirion in the morning, as he had told Elrond on the balcony. He would use this time to write that letter. It would have to be a nice letter. But not too nice...

With a grin Ereinion shook his head, recalling a flicker of the dream, allowing it into his thoughts shortly, savouring it a little.

_Im aníra dîn-mîl..._

'Ereinion, you are an incorrigible romantic,' he reprimanded himself, and entered his chambers again. 

--~~*~~--

The following morning, Celebrían was surprised to find Ereinion pulling on his gloves while descending the stairway. She had risen early, seeing to some matters that had been forgotten due to yesterday's events. 

'So where does the High Prince go at this early hour?' she called to him. 

He smiled at her broadly, and began pulling off the gloves again.

'He goes home,' he smiled, catching her hand a moment to give it a small shake. 'For I need to give my mind other affairs to concentrate upon.' 

She nodded. 

'Elrond knows you are departing?'

'Elrond knows.'

'Briníel will not be pleased if you told everyone except her.' 

With a secretive smile, Ereinion offered his arm.

'I have left her a note. Your daughter's fury is not something I wish over me again. Especially not hers.' 

Taking his arm, Celebrían looked at him intently, not easily letting his last words pass by.

'At least you head off less heavy-hearted than you did before.'

He smiled and looked at his feet a moment. 

'I leave less heavy-hearted than I came as well.'

Gently enquiring, Celebrían could not help but wonder. 

'So what was said in Tirion was true?'

'If it spoke of the youngest High Prince being in a foul mood...' he started ominously, but with a distinct tone of amusement audible in his voice. 

'Gloomy, rather than a foul mood, I was told,' Celebrían spoke in reply. 

He shook his head with a smile. 

'I was foolish.' 

'How so?' 

Ereinion looked at her a moment and halted, trying to judge once again how much she had already guessed.

'I allowed my feelings to cloud my mind. And by allowing it so, it consumed too much of me.'

Giving his arm a slight squeeze, Celebrían nodded.

'And now?'

'Sometimes, some of my former wisdom is allowed to return to me,' he smiled. 'This has happened. I realise I can wait.'

'But for what exactly, Ereinion?'

He chuckled, and took a deep breath. 

'Coming of Age, something indicating either love or something else. I do not know exactly. For now, knowing that I love, and that I am trusted in return is enough.'

Celebrían looked at him.

'Do you wish to speak of it to me? Truly speak of it?' 

He returned her gaze, and took her hand up in manner of goodbye. There seemed to be more inner peacefulness over him than there had been for a long time. 

'I merely wish to tell you...' he said slowly, a dreamy look in his eyes, 'that I love your daughter.'

Then he released her hand and turned around with a blissful expression on his face, to disappear into the direction of the stables.

'Now why,' the Elf-lady mumbled to herself, 'do I suspect that you did not mention that to either Elrond, or in your note to Briníel?'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

muindor-nîn: my brother

Im aníra dîn-mîl: I desire your love

Cari-im mîl hon?: Do I love him? 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	23. Return

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

**Loquacious**: hmm, I really don't know whether elves sharing dreams is canon (most canon and what I invented along the way have sort of mixed up). I'll see if I can find anything on it and will let you know. 

**Pereliniel**: Just a couple of years until Celebriníel's majority, it being winter now, she will turn 49 next spring. 

**Earelen**: (I'm late in replying, I know, I know) Ereinion and Celebriníel would be first cousins three times removed (now, via Celeborn (Nimloth being his niece), Elrond and Celebrían were first cousins two times removed), so I think I'm safe. (for now ;))

Thanks everyone else for the reviews! Do take a nice chocolate Christmas elfie from the box!

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**Chapter Twenty-Two     Return **

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

When it seemed the eldest of the High Princes had spoken his last word, most of those present in his council chambers, including Fingolfin himself, departed gradually, speaking in hushed voices. 

Ereinion was the last to remain, seated deeply in the chair nearest to the comfortable fireplace, his hand resting under his head, his eyes far away. This late afternoon, there were many thoughts occupying his mind, not the least his own council waiting for him, back in his own chambers, not far from here. And yet he did not rise, more or less trusting Elrohir would inform them there would be no meeting today. 

After a while, it was Fingon who returned, and stood contemplating whether or not to disturb his son. 

His eyes still locked on something unseen, the youngest High Prince spoke clearly, a slight trace of amazement in his voice. 

'You know, Adar, I had not expected this.'

Swallowing, Fingon shook his head.

'I still hope every day my brother and sister return from Mandos. I have learned not to expect anything if it has to do with rebirth or rehousing. But somehow this does not surprise me in the least. In truth, I do not think it surprises you either, it is merely the time which is inconvenient.'

Biting his lower lip a moment, Ereinion finally looked up at his father. 

'What of the child?'

Fingon gave a short shake of the head.

'We shall see what Fingolfin and Finarfin decide.'

Turning his gaze towards the fire, Ereinion nodded, irony heavy in his voice. 

'Of course. Even though they have known of this for five years before now.'

Folding his arms, Fingon strolled through the room, and began moving some papers on his father's desk. Without looking up, knowing he would only see his son's back, he took a deep breath before posing his question. 

'Have you met him?'

He watched his son sit up instantly, in such a way he could not keep observing casually. Ereinion turned to meet his eyes.

'No.'

'Do you...'

'No.'

Leaving the papers as they were, he approached the chair he had left not long ago, the one nearest to Ereinion's.

'There will come a moment when you and he shall come face to face again.'

With a nod, Ereinion sat back again. 

'Perhaps, but not now, not today, not anytime soon.'

'He is only a boy, Ereinion.'

'I know that. Were you not nervous to see me, upon my return?'

Sitting back also, the elder of the two elves smiled.

'Your mother made me see you, there was no room for argument.'

'Well, here is plenty of room for argument.' 

They sat silently for a moment, only the crackle of the fire audible. 

'There is a reason I ask this,' Fingon said slowly, very attentive to even the smallest of his son's reactions. 

Only moving his eyes, Ereinion looked at him again. No answer, just two attentive grey eyes which indicated he was listening. Fingon leant forward, closer to the fire, his elbows on his knees. 

'He... has asked for you.'

Ereinion let an amused sound escape his lips.

'How can he have asked for me?'

'Do you remember who you asked for, at about that same age, I might add?'

Resting his chin on his chest, Ereinion was silent for a while, the flames dancing and casting shadows the only movement visible on his face. 

'I had to wait a long time before I could see Elrond again. It will not hurt the child to wait. And I was never as close to him as Elrond was to me. It does not seem right.' He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. 'I was the only one he asked for?' 

'You were not the only one, but you were the first.'

'Who else?'

'Galadriel.' 

'Ah, yes. Much more logical.'

'What is it that makes you act so defensively, Ereinion?' Fingon asked, giving his son a weary look. 'Not merely this, is it?'

'An accumulation of events. Frustration. Perhaps.'

However much he preferred to draw the answer out if his son, Fingon knew any attempts with that in mind would only make him close up tighter. 

'Your mother asked if you would have dinner with us.'

Ereinion nodded shortly.

'Yes, though it would have to be tonight.'

'Yes?'

'I leave for Imloth in the morning.'

--~~*~~--

As Elernil strode out of his grandfather's library, he already observed Celebriníel impatiently waiting. As soon as he had removed himself far enough from the doors as to be out of the hearing distance of those inside the library, she neared him with a chastising look. 

'You merely had to bring messages, what could possibly have taken you so long?'

Smiling, Elernil looked down at her, half a head shorter than he was.

'Chess, Briníel. Your father would never have me leave without a game of chess. Although it seemed he was out to show Daeradar Celeborn my progress since he last saw me play. And do allow me to warm up a little. The weather is cold.' 

Knowing very well she had not truly been asking for an explanation, he answered her anticipating look with a questioning one.

'What?'

'Oh well, if that is the case, do not deliver all your messages.' 

Straightening her shoulders, Celebriníel turned and made for the stairway. For a moment Elernil thought to experiment how long it would take for her to return, but decided Ereinion would not be entirely pleased with that. 

'Very well.' He reached inside his tunic and collected the dispatch he had kept there, instead of with the other letters. 'If you had been here when I arrived, you would have had it before I entered.' 

'I know,' she replied, blushing, eyes on the letter that her nephew now pushed into her hands. Standing so for a moment, she finally lifted her head, and then quickly kissed Elernil on the cheek, only to speed up the stairway and disappear out of sight. 

Shaking his head, Elernil shrugged, and went in search of his mother. 

Breaking the seal and unfolding the paper before she had even reached her room, Celebriníel chuckled with delight. There was no addressee at the top of the letter, and most of it consisted of a list with several titles of manuscripts, but she had not expected anything else. With a smile she read the last lines, in their matter-of-fact slant. 

_I requested one of the librarians to go in search of the texts needed for your studies. Much as expected, not all could be located on such short notice, but I will carry those unearthed from the Great Library (as listed above) with me tomorrow, as I ride for Imloth to meet with your father. _

_Hoping this note finds you well,_

_E. _

It was silly, she knew, taking such delight in a mere note meaning nothing. It meant nothing to him, in any case. Most likely he had sent someone else to take care of the matter in his name. Celebriníel did not think it was of importance, at this point. He would come tomorrow, and she would receive the manuscripts from his own hands, and that would be enough... 

--~~*~~--

The following morning, Elladan, somewhere between waking and sleeping, after he had shortly returned to bed again, became aware of a soft tugging on his hair. The movement had become somewhat of a natural thing recently, and therefore he did not need to open his eyes to be able to catch the small fist which was wrapped around one of his braids. 

A soft sound of disappointment was uttered nearby as he untangled his hair from the tiny fingers, and he opened his eyes to find one of his small daughters sitting beside him on the large bed, her lower lip slightly trembling. He smiled briefly, which only made her pout more, it seemed. 

'Shh, Almariel, no need to cry, come to Ada,' he whispered, holding out an arm for her.

She quickly crawled closer and settled against him, slipping her thumb into her mouth and fingering her ear with her other hand. Elladan smiled as her grey eyes settled on his face. 

'You will see your sister a little while later, I promise, but when your Daeradar came this morning you were still asleep, so he took Almarinde with him, and you stayed with me.' 

With what almost seemed a weak smile, the little girl blinked at him, then released her ear and stretched her hand out to catch his hair again. 

Giving in to her request, Elladan was relieved to notice she was only just interested in holding it, at least for the moment. Smiling, he stroked her hair and followed her nose with his index finger, then her cheeks, knowing the movements soothed the child; her eyes were half-closed at present. 

He found it remarkable she could just will herself to sleep everywhere, sometimes. 

Equally remarkable was that he could just look at her, watch her sleep, for hours on end. Not that time mattered, but he could. 

And there was no way to tell how much time had passed before Aurehen returned to the room and laughed softly as she saw the two of them. 

'Enchanted?' she asked Elladan teasingly. 

'Completely,' he replied, laughing up at her. 

'Nevertheless, perhaps you can go and save your father from Almarinde. You know how irritable she can be if her lunch is postponed for too long.'

Pressing his lips against Almariel's forehead, Elladan made to rise, but was brought to a halt by a little hand still clasping a strand of his hair. With a chuckle, Aurehen helped him escape. Pulling his wife closer, Elladan looked at their youngest daughter, now asleep, her hand having returned to her ear. Turning up Aurehen's face he kissed her gently, allowed his gaze to linger on her face for a moment longer, and then departed for the library. 

--~~*~~--

Both Ereinion and Elrohir were swift in making their way up to the house from the stables. The wind had picked up considerably, and combined with the freezing winter-temperature, being outside was not comfortable at all. 

Once indoors, Elrohir indicated he was going in search of Mîrlinde, while Ereinion went in search of Elrond. 

He found the Lord of the House occupied in his study with a small dark-haired elfchild, whom he judged to be one of Elrond's granddaughters. She was indeed, the eldest of Elladan's daughters, Almarinde. 

'I take it you have heard?' Ereinion asked, making his way through the chamber. 

Elrond looked up as the other poured himself a glass of wine from the crystal decanter which stood on a small side table. He observed the High Prince crossing the chamber once more, glass in hand, to end up staring into the flames of the fire that burned comfortably in the fireplace. 

'That there was an important matter that needed to be discussed in Tirion. This is what you speak of?'

Bringing the glass to his lips and taking a small sip, Ereinion nodded. 

'Uhm, well, yes.'

The small child sitting in Elrond's lap raised her face enquiringly up to her grandfather and offered her hand when he did not immediately respond to her. Catching it, Elrond smiled at her, then raised an eyebrow at Ereinion. 

'And?'

Breaking his stare into the flames to look at Elrond, Ereinion pursed his lips. 

'Fëanorians.'

'Hmm,' Elrond frowned. 'Fëanorians? I shall need slightly more information than simply that.'

Leaving his position by the fireplace, Ereinion walked towards Elrond and Almarinde to take a chair. 

'Fingolfin called a family meeting. If I am not much mistaken, you were invited as well.'

Carefully Elrond handed over the small girl, keeping an observant eye on Ereinion as he held the child to his chest. 

'Elrohir was there.'

'Yes,' Ereinion replied, catching the hand with which the girl tried to grab one of his braids. 'I noticed that much.'

While the High Prince concentrated on both the elfchild as well as the conversation, Elrond smiled and folded his hands, leaning back in his chair. 

'Are you going to explain it to me, or merely talk around it?' 

Sitting the girl down on his lap, holding her hands, Ereinion faced his friend. 

'Celebrimbor has been released from Mandos's Halls.'

Sitting quietly for a moment, Elrond finally rose and walked over to the decanter. There he poured a glass of the wine as well. Ereinion watched him for a reaction, but had a hard time piercing the stone façade, as Almarinde tried to escape his grasp. 

Slowly, the Elf-lord returned, but did not sit down again. 

Thoughtfully, Elrond twirled the reddish substance in the glass, still not having tasted it. Then his eyes flashed up, meeting Ereinion's. 'Recently?'

Attempting to keep the girl in his lap from taking a hold of the glass he had placed on the table next to him before she had been handed to him, Ereinion managed to half-nod. 

'Recently, but not very much so. This is where it becomes rather amusing. Apparently, this has all been kept quiet for some time. No wonder, really, considering what happened regarding the rings and such. There are many on Aman who have suffered greatly due to Celebrimbor's craftsmanship.'

Shaking his head, Elrond set down his glass and offered to take back the child, then looked at his friend.

'"What happened regarding the rings and such"'? 

Ereinion shrugged, pursing his lips and lifting his glass to his lips again. 

'I do not have time for such pleasantries as to complain about jewellery that caused my death.' 

As Almarinde settled comfortably in her grandfather's arms, watching Ereinion, Elrond shook his head slowly.

'How long has this remained silent then?' 

'Five years. I have not seen the child.'

The two adults were quiet for some time, both caught up in their separate streams of thought. Almarinde made soft chuckling noises as she finally caught one of Elrond's braids and put the end in her mouth, biting it while looking up. 

'So the first has returned,' Elrond finally mused, rather to himself than to anyone else, of which Ereinion was very much aware. 'It brings me to wonder about the rest of them.' 

The girl in his arms suddenly released his hair and squealed in delight, uttering something that came very close to "Ada!". With quick paces, Elladan, who had indeed entered, neared and took her from Elrond, only to hold her up in the air for a moment, while she laughed cheerily. 

'Hullo, Almarinde, were you teasing your Daeradar and Ereinion?' he asked with enthusiasm.

He lowered her and took her on his arm, smiling at Ereinion. 

'It is good to see you again, though I imagine your journey here was... wintry?' 

'I do very much look forward to sitting nearer to a fire in a while, to be sure,' Ereinion grinned. 

'And I take it you have made the acquaintance of my daughter?' Elladan asked, his glimmering eyes on the child in his arms. 

'Only the eldest,' the High Prince replied with a smile. 

'Ah, we shall soon remedy that,' the proud father promised, as he grimaced at his daughter, making her laugh. 'If you have time, that is.' 

While they were speaking, Celebrían entered, moving across the chamber to place a hand on Elrond's arm in silence. 

Noticing the unspoken conversation going on between them, Ereinion rose and smiled at Elladan. 

'I have time.'

He reached out to catch Celebrían's hand in greeting momentarily, then looked at Elrond.

'We shall speak of this further, I promise.'

Elrond slowly nodded in reply, and watched Ereinion follow Elladan, in search of his other granddaughter.

Celebrían smiled as she walked around her husband and studied his face.

'What was the matter?'

Elrond stared at her for a moment. He had felt her ask him the same question before, quietly, in his mind, but he had not been able to explain. He caught her hand. Somehow he could now. 

'Celebrimbor has returned. Or rather, he did five years ago.'

As most expression fled from her face, Celebrían exerted some pressure on her husband's hand.  

'And what happens now?'

Entwining his fingers with hers, Elrond smiled weakly.

'I do not know. If it brings back the past... I cannot say.'

'For you, you mean? Or...?'

He shook his head.

'It is true Eregion has always affected me differently than Mordor did. But I believe there might be some here on Aman who feel more strongly about the matter.' 

Suddenly, there was a vision, one Celebrían had seen many times before, long ago, when sharing her lover's dreams. It was only a flash, but there were enough emotions accompanying it for her to remember how it affected Elrond. 

A body, pierced with arrows, hung upon a pole, functioning as a banner.

Then it had gone again. 

'We cautioned them,' Elrond whispered, lost in thought, his gaze caught on something beyond. 'But they did not listen. Not in time. I was not in time.' 

Celebrían touched his face, making him gaze at her and smile. 

'I know it, El-nîn.' She squeezed his shoulder. 

Nodding, he offered his arm. Together they walked into the hall, looking down to see Ereinion hold Elladan's second daughter, Almariel. As her sister, the girl was interested in catching the Elf-lord's braids, but Ereinion seemed to have become accustomed to it, and easily held off grabbing little hands as he spoke to Aurehen, who had joined the two Elf-lords.

Celebrían rested her head against Elrond's shoulder. 

'And the child?'

Elrond gave a shake of the head. 

'Ereinion has not said.'

--~~*~~--

Slipping into the library some time after leaving Elladan and Aurehen with their daughters, Ereinion smiled as he noticed Celebriníel, staring at a piece of paper. He stood there for a moment, drinking in the sight, wishing he could step closer and simply run his fingers through her silver tresses. He regretted having to disturb her.

'There you are,' he said quietly, but loud enough to draw her out of her musings. 'I would have expected to see you downstairs.'

She looked up at him and smiled broadly as he walked over and sat down beside her, depositing a leather binder on the table. 

'I lost track of time.' She shook her head. 'I think I have been staring at this piece of paper for at least half an hour now. And I still have no idea what is on it. It just did not register.'

Raising a playful eyebrow, Ereinion smiled at her. 

'I am uncertain whether I should give you these, then. Your father will blame me if he finds you staring at those for hours on end.' 

With a shake of the head, Celebriníel smiled back. 

'My father knows what it is to be engrossed in a manuscript.' 

_That smile will be my undoing soon_, Ereinion thought. 

'Ah yes, he does indeed.' He nodded as he began undoing the fastenings of the binder, attempting to focus on something else than her lips. 'There is a very interesting account of the first travels of the Noldor into Middle-earth there.' 

Taking the manuscripts from him, Celebriníel asked the question without looking at him. 

'Did you travel much in Middle-earth?'

He smiled as he saw her eagerly absorb the information before her, then nodded. 

'Though it is not mentioned much in the history books, I was quite well-travelled. Not always did I simply sit in my halls and bicker with Númenórean kings.' 

Putting aside the document with care, and collecting a map from beneath her notebooks and other papers, Celebriníel looked at him. 

'What is the furthest you have travelled?' 

'Hmm, let me see,' he replied, pulling the map closer and bending over it. 

Celebriníel watched him, concentrating as he traced his finger from Forlindon in the west, all the way through Eriador, the pass of the Rohan, past Mordor, deeper into the south. 

'I travelled there, when my reign still knew peace, at which time the lands of Middle-earth were still scarcely populated. I have been beyond the river Harnen, have followed the road leading to the lands of Haradwaith.' 

She looked at him, then at the southern part of the map before her, the only part which was tinted a light brownish colour. 

'Is it truly a desert place?'  

'Yes,' he answered slowly, thoughtfully, 'even when I visited it. Though perhaps, it has not always been so.' 

'Tell me.'

If this was the only thing she could share with him, words, history, Celebriníel thought, then she would at least endeavour to have him speak as long as possible. 

'Once,' he began, 'I think it was a green land, where grass grew, and the land was nourished by abundant rains. I know not why it changed.'

'How was it when you visited?' 

'Dry.'

'Ereinion,' she insisted, tilting her head a little.

He grinned, and received her reproving gaze with a shrug. Then he turned silent for a while, caught up in memories. 

'It is a vastness, it surpasses all imagination. Things are never what they seem there.'

'I would think it was all sand,' he heard her whisper. 

'On the contrary, the landscape is magnificent, diverse, though in a different way from how we know it.'

_From how **you** know it_, Ereinion thought. 

'The winds shape the lands there,' he continued. 'They change the scenery, shift mountains, transform points of reference. Sometimes the heat is almost unbearable, and all that lives there must adapt. There are dry places, but I do not think those terrified me as much as the rock wastelands did. The stones were brought there by ancient rivers, probably, water that flowed there, perhaps long before the first Elves awoke.'

'It sounds like you were fond of it.'

'It is a strange place. Confusing. But beautiful in its own way. It can be very much like certain conditions of the mind.'

And suddenly he recalled something, a strange detail, a detail not part of that memory, but connected to a different one. 

'The dust in the air enters your lungs... The weather becomes your enemy. Plants cannot live there. Nothing can live there.'

Celebriníel noted the change at once, and looked at him inquiringly. 

'Ereinion?'

'Mordor.'

'Oh.'

For a moment she contemplated resting a hand on his arm, just to let him know she cared, that she was there. But the moment passed as soon as he spoke again. 

'When I first started to remember... I thought I had gone insane.' 

The mere tone of his voice gave so much additional information, telling the story behind the words, Celebriníel feared to interrupt, wondering if he would even hear her words, remembering a similar situation which had taken place when she had been much younger. 

'It must have been hard.'

'For my mother, it was.' Ereinion smiled at the memory. He looked at Celebriníel, who seemed relieved the moment had passed. 'With my father going through the same only a little before, it was she who experienced the strain of it all. She has forgiven both of us, though.' He chuckled and rose. 

Desperate for him to stay longer, Celebriníel posed him a question she believed would keep him, at least for a while. 

'How does your mother?'

'Well. She does well.' He nodded as if to confirm his own words. 'I think she enjoys my presence in Tirion. I take after her, and we feel most comfortable discussing dilemmas together. Likeminded, perhaps. And more objective when it concerns political matters.' 

Self-consciously he realised he was talking nonsense, her presence, her eyes on him constantly, the most apparent reason for it. Celebriníel did not appear to notice. 

'Good,' she simply answered, rising from her chair. 

'I must return there soon. To Tirion.' For some reason he lowered his voice as he spoke, and placed a hand on the table, as if there was need for him to steady himself. 

'I know,' she replied softly, looking up at him. 

Without saying anything, she stepped forward, causing him, as an instinctive reaction, to bring his face close to hers.

_Realise what you are doing... Be so very careful that you know..._ he warned himself. 

Her hand was unexpectedly on his cheekbone, her cold fingers making the event even more palpable. When she stood so near him, a longing sprang from deep within him, a fire he had long tried to hide. To touch her face, to kiss her, to hold her...

But he would not allow it to guide him. He refused to let it shatter all. 

Ereinion had to control every urge in his body to be able to withdraw, but withdraw he did. Celebriníel looked away, almost guiltily, before stepping back also. 

'I will see you tonight, at dinner?' he asked, not looking at her, knowing that if he did, all his restraint would vanish like snow in sun. 

'Yes,' he heard her whisper. 'Tonight.'

'Very well,' he replied, before turning and walking towards the door as quickly as he could, trying to do so without acting too awkwardly. Celebriníel watched him go, and some time later caught herself still staring at the place where he had just disappeared. Taking a deep breath, she sat down and stared at the table, none of her notes making any sense to her at this point. Then she buried her head in her hands and closed her eyes, hoping desperately that when she opened them again, everything would be back to normal, or would at least have some feeling of normalcy about it... 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Daeradar: I suppose Elernil would call Celeborn (or Eärendil for that) the same as Celebriníel would, since we are talking about forefathers, and grandfathers or great-grandfathers are a rather awkward concept in Elvish families.

Almarinde: "almare" (Quenya) blessedness, bliss, "ind" (Sindarin) heart

Almariel: "almare" (Q) blessedness, bliss, "iell" (S) daughter, girl (thanks Case! ;))

Harnen: Gondor's boundary with Near-Harad, a river in the southern part of Middle-earth, the name meaning "south-water"

Haradwaith: a vague term for the lands south-east of Harondor and Umbar, applying to Far and Near Harad

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^ 

With my exams coming up, I can't say when I'll next update (with any luck, no one will notice, and there's no need to worry). But in any case, Happy Holidays to everyone, and great writing vibes to all, this coming year! :D


	24. Changes

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Oh my, there's a lot of pushing and shoving Ereinion and Celebriníel together going on in reviews recently... ;))  
*mumbles something about the chapter after this one*

About this story ending: I really can't say when. It could be like the "thread that never ends." I'm enjoying myself too much at this point (I'm just glad there are more people who like it as well *silly smile*).   
Most questions asked will be resolved in upcoming chapters, so I won't go there right now. 

**Loquacious**: The dream-thing, I don't think it's canonical. But I wrote Celebrían and Elrond sharing dreams while she was on Aman and he still in Middle-earth, so I don't think distance matters. :))

**Rose Red**: That fic-challenge is evil. But I'll be sure to keep it in mind, so even if I won't be able to give in to it soon, I will try to work it in when I can. ;)

**escapistone**: The twins were born in late spring, and at this point we're somewhere in the late autumn/early-mid winter season, so my guess is they are between 6 and 8 months old (meaning they shall soon be running around ;))). 

Many chocolate elfies go to kalurien. She always gives me good tips and has to put up with me not listening and adding stuff that is probably riddled with typos. *bows humbly* To everyone else! Thank you!

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Twenty-Three     Changes**

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

'He is certainly acting... strangely.'

Celebrían looked up at Celeborn and smiled, settling her sleeping granddaughter more comfortably in her arms as she sat back. Almariel shifted easily and placed her thumb into her mouth, not waking. 

'Now, with Ereinion, strange is not something easy to pinpoint. He has his eccentricities, as Gil-galad had them.' Seated near the window, she gazed outside observing the landscape covered in snow. 'The question might be how many he has retained.'

Celeborn replied with a smile very similar to that of his daughter. 

'Or how to distinguish between his eccentricities, as you call them, and those of his actions that are unusual even to him.' 

'Indeed,' Celebrían nodded.

'But how,' he asked, settling on the armrest of the chair to run careful fingers through the sleeping child's hair, 'does Briníel feel about all this?'

'She is so young, which is very easy to forget. I care for Ereinion very much, I love him for being the friend to Elrond he has always been, I love him for his presence in my own life, in that of my family. But I cannot say he is an easy person.'

'You did not answer the question.'

She looked up at him.

'I think that she is in love with him. I do not know whether she truly knows who he is though.'

'Your mother, she is very quiet of this.'

'I have noticed, yes.'

'All she will say, and this is with that mystical smile she is known to so aptly put to use in these situations, is that perhaps Celebriníel will steady him. And somehow, to me, that makes sense.'

Trying to smile, Celebrían shook her head, looking down at the sleeping child in her arms, her thoughts further away. 

'She does not steady him now, Adar. And here, mother can not dress him up in an Elven cloak, and give him a jewel to wear upon his brow, so he can meet my daughter under the trees of Caras Galadhon laden with flowers of gold.'

Offering his hand, Celeborn looked down at her. 

'Ereinion arrived with Elven cloak, and he needs no gem on his brow to shine, nor trees laden with blossom.' 

Taking her father's hand, Celebrían sighed softly. 

'There are moments when I certainly agree with you, but I must be honest as well. I must protect my daughter first.'

With a chuckle, Celeborn shook his head. 

'I doubt the daughter of Elrond Peredhil and Celebrían of the Golden Wood needs much protection. Perhaps she needs time, yes, but I do not think she needs protection, or even guidance. And you forget how Ereinion can be when the gloom lifts from his features.' 

The last remark made a true smile light up in the face of the Lady of the House. 

'I do think he was the only person who could persuade Elrond to leave his books in Lindon's libraries.'

'I well recall one instance when Ereinion had gone off into the Ered Luin, together with Elrond, on one of those excursions they were always on,' Celeborn nodded, his eyes twinkling. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. 'I still believe Gil-galad chose to build Lindon where he built it so he could clamber around those mountains, truly.'

He chuckled, shook his head, and Celebrían saw no need to urge him to continue the tale he was about to embark on; Celeborn returned there out of his own accord. 

'It must have been in the early years of the Second Age, those years of peace, when Gil-galad's crown was not yet so heavy.' He nodded. 'I remember, they had set out early, lightly packed with only bare necessities, and no communication of when they were to return.'

'I do not believe it was word from Círdan,' Celeborn mused, shaking his head. 'But in any case, the High King's councillors wished to call a meeting, and sent search parties into the mountains, but without finding a trace of either Ereinion or Elrond. Even I went out to find them, at a certain point. I barely escaped the thunderstorm that broke out on the fifth day of searching, but it suffices to say Lindon was in an uproar.' 

'I do not think I have had the honour of hearing this tale before,' Celebrían said with a smile. 'They were trapped in the mountains?'

'It was assumed so, for no one had heard or seen anything of them. Now, as you well know, the Ered Luin are notorious for being treacherous during and after heavy rain. Small caves filling up unexpectedly at high speed, a misstep easily turning into a grave accident...' 

Celeborn paused for a moment, letting the sentence hang in the air a little, then the faintest of smiles appeared on his face, only for an instant, and he continued once more. 

'So we stood waiting, soaked to the bone due to attempted rescues and searches into the mountains for days on end, and the two of them come walking up cheerily, asking us what in the name of Elbereth we are doing. We learned they had crossed the mountains already by the time the storm broke, and spent some comfortable days in front of a fire, on the other side of the mountains in Eriador.' 

Shaking her head, more out of compassion for her father and the face he pulled than anything else, Celebrían grinned.

'It certainly sounds like them.'

'That day I vowed I would never go in search of either one of them ever again.'

Celeborn sounded as if he were still offended over it, but as his daughter quietly laughed, it did not take long for him to smile broadly as well. These little meetings between the two of them, few and often far apart, usually consisted of such things; she speaking her mind, not necessarily asking him to give his opinion, just to listen, and he trying to comfort her, to make her smile. 

From the other end of the room, Aurehen entered, Elladan a little behind her, carrying his other daughter, who seemed very much awake. He softly spoke to the child, who giggled amusedly, a fist firmly secured around one of her father's dark braids.

Smiling, Aurehen opened her arms for the sleeping Almariel. Celebrían handed her granddaughter away, and rose to greet her son and Almarinde. 

'Do you wish me to watch her for a while?'

Aurehen shook her head.

'We shall bring them both to bed presently. I only hope Almarinde shall not wake her sister with all her chatter.'

Celeborn caught the small hand Almarinde offered him and looked at Elladan.

'Your father and Ereinion are still caught up in their discussions?'

Elladan nodded. 

'I think I _can_ say they have discussed the more gloomy affairs that accompany Celebrimbor's return, and that both of them are now more or less sure of where they stand. Last I heard was that they were remembering a rather good wine they drank after returning to Imladris victorious.' He chuckled.

Walking around the desk that stood in the chamber, Celebrían began searching through some papers she had left there this morning, before she had been asked to keep an eye on her youngest granddaughter. To Aurehen it seemed a sign to leave, and Elladan followed, attempting to keep his daughter quiet. 

Listening to the sound of the child slowly fade away, Celeborn followed Celebrían and sat down in one of the chairs near her desk. He took a moment to look around, and found many familiar things. His daughter's study was the place where most of the house gathered during the day. Usually if the library was empty, and Elrond could not be found in his working chamber, he could be found here, this chamber, straight across the library from his own. Somehow, where Elrond's study could be imposing, doing justice to its name, Celebrían's was the image of homeliness, a writing room, as well as a sitting room, a place around which the entire house revolved sometimes. 

'What do you think shall happen to Celebrimbor?' he asked, forcing his thoughts back to the present. 

Celebrían looked up, and her answer came almost directly, as if she had been pondering the same question in her mind not a moment ago. _She likely has_, Celeborn thought.

'He shall fall under the High King's guardianship regardless. It seems most logical Finarfin and Fingolfin wish to place him with family though. Close to those whom he knew in Middle-earth. And close to someone who might understand what he will go through, in years to come.'

Celeborn looked at her. 

'Ereinion? Fingolfin? Or simply Nerdanel in Tirion?' 

Celebrían slowly shook her head. 

'Personally, I would immediately have Nerdanel take him under her wing. I suspect she has done so already, during those five years we know nothing of. But these decisions concerning the placing of the rehoused are considered very carefully. I cannot possibly tell you what the conclusion shall be in the end.' She looked at her father. 'I was told he has asked for Naneth and you?' 

'He has,' Celeborn replied shortly. 'We plan to go to Tirion in the not too distant future.'

From somewhere, voices began to grow louder, and, leaving her desk, Celebrían opened the door to gaze into the library. Elrond stood by the railing, apparently talking to someone downstairs. It sounded like Ereinion.

'Apparently there has been an accident. He asks if the House of Elrond would welcome him and his following, so they can see to their needs here, before returning to Tirion.'

Elrond nodded. 

'The High King, and whomever rides with him, is welcome at Imloth.'

From below sounded the footsteps of someone retreating, no doubt to ride towards the already nearing party on horseback, to tell them Imloth was waiting. 

As from out of nowhere, Elladan's voice sounded, though Celebrían could not make out the words. She heard Ereinion again; apparently it had not been the High Prince who had just left. 

Then her youngest son's voice rose, very audible now.

'Ereinion and I shall ride towards them.'

--~~*~~--

Due to the bustle on the road and at the stables, Ereinion had not been able to study many of those accompanying Finarfin on his riding trip. As he took a moment to do so, he could not help but wonder how much of a coincidence this was. It certainly looked terribly arranged. He leant against one of the tables. 

Overall, Finarfin seemed the only one amused. Ereinion threw him a careful smile, and it was returned with an equally careful grin, which disappeared as one of the healers that had accompanied him inspected his arm, prodding and feeling for breaks in the bone, any swellings that could accompany injuries. 

Elrond had reduced himself to being only a looming figure in the background. He stood watching, his eyes ever so vigilantly observing, his arms folded across his chest, leaning against the wall near a window. 

As soon as the healer had stepped back, the High King caught his son's sleeve. Finrod nodded as he listened to his father. 

Finarfin's eldest son had a way of unnoticeably moving through a crowd Ereinion was slightly envious of, and he watched Finrod approach Elrond, who lent him his ear with an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

So Elrond, too, suspected this was no chance visit? 

A moment later most surplus members of the High King's following were being ushered out of Celebrían's chambers. Erestor and Glorfindel disappeared with them, no doubt to see to any of the needs Imloth's guests might have. 

Ereinion smiled at Finrod, who looked at him a moment before allowing him to remain. Elrond left his place by the window and approached Finarfin. Celebrían had already been there, at her grandfather's side, together with Galadriel. 

With a smile, the former Lord of Imladris seemed to exchange some words with the High King, before he started his own examination. Celebrían looked up at Elrond, but he did not seem to answer her gaze purposely. Quiet sentences were exchanged between the three of them, with Finarfin every once in a while squinting when Elrond touched upon a sore spot. Finally, Celebrían rose and walked over to where Celebriníel stood. Galadriel remained until Finarfin gestured he would be fine, and she joined Celeborn who stood a little removed. 

Now alone, Elrond glanced at Finarfin. 

'I do not believe I shall come to a much different conclusion than your physician has, my Lord.'

The High King nodded.

'Humour me, Elrond, if you will.'

'Of course.'

As the dark-haired Elf-lord, his cousin and the husband of his granddaughter, continued the examination, Finarfin narrowed his eyes. 

'Occurrences like these make me realise what the difficulty is with being Elvish.'

'What is that, my Lord?'

Finarfin grimaced, and Elrond made an apologetic sound. The High King heaved a sigh. 

'We have to be reminded we are not invulnerable.'

Elrond did not look at him, but his voice sounded matter-of-factly, able fingers examining what he judged to be a very minor injury. 

'A mere sprain, my Lord, if even that. A painful inconvenience, nothing more.'

'Do you ever need to be reminded, Elrond?'

Halting a moment, Elrond shook his head. 

'No... Somehow, living with the knowledge that no Elf is truly immortal for more than two Ages in Middle-earth, I do not think I shall ever have to be told again, my Lord. It was grown into my awareness from early childhood on.'

Studying Elrond's movements as he continued, Finwë's youngest son turned his attention away from Elvish mortality and his arm. He knew very well there was very little wrong with the latter. The sprain had come about when his horse stumbled on some ice on the road, and he had been forced to keep his balance while the reins had still been wrapped around his arm. Normally, he would have shrugged and continued onwards, but at this point he had used it as a guise to come to Imloth. Something of which Elrond seemed well aware.

'Have you, by any chance, been following the discussions in the Council?'

Answering quietly, caution was already very evident in Elrond's voice. 

'I have not followed them recently, no, but my son can surely inform me, would that be necessary.' 

'But you are aware of the fact that someone who has returned from the Halls of Námo Mandos, cannot lay claim on the High Kingship?'

'Ereinion informed me of that, yes.'

Slowly the High King nodded. 

'I expected he would have. He has also informed you of a recent return, I gather.'

'Indeed.'

'It has made discussions blaze up again. But none can claim High Kingship from the house of Curufinwë, neither any of the elder branch of the house of Fingolfin. Even were Ereinion to father a child, no claim can be made.'

Elrond finished his examination and sat down. He folded his hands, his eyes fixed on Finarfin's face. 

'I suspect I know what it is you are trying to say.'

'Your grandmother would not be accepted, and your father cannot lay claim...'

'And I would refuse to,' Elrond interrupted. 'If that is what you are speaking of.'

Finarfin smiled.

'It might very well be that we shall never have to deal with such issues. But of the House of Finwë only survive female lines. Through Turgon, and his daughter, your grandmother Idril, the first right is yours. Even if you would openly refuse...' Finarfin stopped as Elrond raised a hand.  

'My Lord, we shall cross that bridge once it needs to be crossed, not before.'

Slowly, Finarfin nodded.

'You are right,' he smiled, as if somehow the answer pleased him. Now I would like to take a closer look at your granddaughters, Elrond. And you shall have to... Ah wait. Ereinion?'

The High Prince left his leaning position and approached them.

'My Lord?' 

'There is someone waiting outside, will you please invite him in?'

Giving Finarfin a nod, and Elrond a questioning glance, Ereinion strode over to the door and opened it. For a moment he contemplated throwing it shut again, but merely stepped back and scowled at Finarfin, who bowed his head a moment in acknowledgement.

Finrod moved nearer to motion the elfchild that stood just outside to enter, and closed the door, leaving the room himself. Celebrían glanced at Elrond, who rose and nodded at the child. There could be no mistake, all the characteristics were there, even if not yet as pronounced, features clearly naming the face.

'Welcome to Imloth, Celebrimbor, I am Elrond.' 

Bowing his head shortly, observant eyes never leaving Elrond's face, the boy's voice was clear. 

'Suilad, hîr-nîn.'

Celebrían stepped away from the window, and offered a hand to Celebrimbor. He looked at her, then smiled, and placed his hand in hers. 

'Suilad, Celebrimbor. I am Celebrían.'

'Suilad...' he replied, glancing back at Elrond. 'He knows me?'

'Indeed, yes,' she answered, returning his earlier smile. 'I believe most people in this room know you. I am the daughter of Celeborn and Galadriel.' 

For a moment, there seemed to be a sort of recognition that flickered across the boy's face. 

'I remember their names, and I think their faces. But I do not understand why.'

'You will, in time. Who else do you remember?'

He seemed to consider the question for a moment, glimpsing at Ereinion, then back at Celebrían. Finally, he turned down his eyes and stayed silent. Celebrían looked at Ereinion, then stretched out an arm for him. 

If he wavered, it was only for a moment. As he had watched the child, he had been confronted with himself, feeling as he now did, only with the difference he had had his parents nearby. Who did this boy have?

Nearing Celebrimbor, he hunched down, and offered his hand. 

'Suilad, mellon-iaur.' 

He watched grey eyes meet his, and felt a small hand being placed in his own. 

'Are you... Gil-galad... Ereinion?' 

Studying the other curiously, nothing of his earlier reluctance remaining, Ereinion nodded. 

'They call me Ereinion now.'

Releasing Celebrían's hand, Celebrimbor faced Ereinion. He brought up a hand, thought better of it, and quickly withdrew it, but Ereinion smiled. 

'It is allowed.' 

Placing a hand on the Elf-lord's cheek, the boy studied his face, turned it slightly, first to the left, then to the right, and stared at Ereinion, before whispering softly. 

'Why do I remember you?' 

Ereinion tilted his head a moment, recalling the trembling older version of the young Elf before him, the words pouring into his mind. 

_'If anyone can protect the Rings, it is you.'_

_'What friend are you to ask this of me?'_

_'Is it not our kin we can trust when all else fails?'_

_'Some kin you are, if this is the way you wish to prove our kinship.'_

'You and I,' he smiled weakly, moving onto his knees, ignoring the words, words spoken in anger and fear and confusion, 'we were good friends.'

They had been, it was true. Before Eregion, before everything started spinning out of control. Before Annatar... 

Small arms slipped around his neck and he answered, pulling the small boy close, realising, _remembering_, that it had helped him, had comforted him when he had been in this situation. 

_And he will have a much harder time than I..._

'Shall we be friends again?' he heard the child whisper, and he nodded. 

'We shall indeed, Celebrimbor, we shall indeed.'

After that, when he had risen and stepped aside, Ereinion was uncertain what went on further in the chamber, he did not give it much attention. He knew Galadriel spoke with the child, but he could only turn his back, deliberating the future which now lay ahead. A sense of security for Celebrimbor was needed, protection, a feeling of being loved, unconditionally. This was important now. Not the orphans of Eregion placing blame on a boy. He decided he would need to speak to his grandfather at the earliest opportunity. 

Celebrimbor had come to say goodbye at some point, and they had talked a little of unimportant things. Following that, the chambers had emptied. 

He thought everyone had gone, but after a while someone came to stand beside him. Neither of them spoke for some time, the silence was comfortable, they both seemed to have enough thoughts to keep themselves occupied. But finally Celebriníel, the only one who had stayed behind, turned to him, slightly hesitant. 

'What did you feel that made you unwilling to see him before?' 

Ereinion stared out before him. 'I felt...' He shook his head, then looked at her. 'I was angry, angry with him for going to Galadriel first. And in a sense I was angry he came to me. That he dared burden me with not one, but two Rings.'

Celebriníel watched him questioningly, there was indeed a paradox in his explanation, but he smiled comfortingly in reply. 

'It does not matter.'

It did not feel like it mattered at this point. He was surprised at his change of mind nevertheless. The mere fact that Celebrimbor had reminded him of himself had changed everything. 

Sitting down in the window he looked at Celebriníel, and could not help but continue to smile. How much time left between them? Two years? Less than two years... Closer to a year, even. 

She shook her head and chuckled.

'What is wrong?' 

'Nothing,' he said simply. Then, he raised his hand, only to shortly touch her cheek with the back. As he withdrew it again, Celebriníel brought her own hand up, clumsily catching his in midair. Staying so for a moment, neither dared to look at the other. Finally, Ereinion gently turned her hand and restored it to her. Not wishing it to appear a refusal, he began to explain. 

'I...' he started slowly, but Celebriníel interrupted. 

'What happened in the library...'

'Celebriníel,' he looked at her intently, cutting her short now. 'At this moment...'

Her nod was short, and yet again she spoke before he could have ended his sentence. 

'I understand.'

How could she possibly? He was hesitant to say he himself comprehended at times. 

'I am not certain that you do.'

'Really,' she looked away. 'I think I understand.'

'Then tell me.'

She looked at him, smiling weakly, almost painfully.

'You love another.'

The statement was short, to the point. And so horribly wide of the mark that there was nothing he wanted more than to kiss her, and hold her, to tell her she was wrong. Instead he rose and caught her hand again, shaking his head. 

'I love, but I cannot speak it. There are years standing between us, years that will have to pass. Many things can change in a short time. I cannot speak it now. I will not force anyone to accept something they might not wish to accept in two year's time.'

'Are you saying love is fickle?' she whispered bravely, clasping his other hand in hers. 'That I...'

Not allowing her to finish the sentence he pulled her in his arms. 

'I am saying some things have to be given time,' he whispered into her hair, stroking her back. 'If you have not known love, how can you recognise it for what it truly is? How can you know it shall still be there tomorrow?'

Celebriníel pushed him away, attempting to conceal the tears in her eyes with a quick movement.

'Are your experiences in love so much greater than mine, that you know better than I do?'

'Nay,' he said, almost smiling at her flaming eyes. 'Only you know what is in your heart. I apologise, lady.'

Walking away from the window, he had every intention to leave. 

'I know what it is you are trying to do,' she said, as he had passed her, and had already crossed half of the chamber. Surprised, he made to answer, but she was already speaking again. 'You try to keep me at an arm's length. At least until the time you spoke of has passed.' 

Bowing his head, he nodded. 

'I hope that you will forgive me, if this is true.' He smiled. 'And prove me foolish for speaking those words to you, soon.'

He turned to leave, but could not help react on her voice when she called to him.

'Ereinion?'

He faced her again from the doorway. 

'Briníel?'

'You will not go because of this? I do believe you are expected at dinner.'

'I will return to Tirion in the morning, with the High King.'

She nodded. 

'Imloth looks forward to your return, my Lord High Prince.'

'Celebriníel?'

'Yes?'

'Can I still write to you?'

A breath that sounded very much like a short laugh escaped her. Bowing her head and shaking it a little, she nodded in the end.

'Yes, you can.'

When she looked up again, he had disappeared from the doorway. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Celeborn's story, we don't really know much about the Ered Luin, so most I made up. 

Note on Elvish: apparently the specialists have now decided nin (as in meaning "my") has an accent: nín. I'm still sticking to nîn though, so don't say I didn't warn you. ;))

hîr-nîn: my lord

mellon-iaur: old friend, former friend

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

I'm really very sorry about that... *cough*   
Happy Holidays! (again)


	25. Masque

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

**A/N**: Masques, or Masks; (dramatic) entertainments involving dances and disguises. 

*hands out toothbrushes* Sweet stuff ahead...

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**Chapter Twenty-Four     Masque **

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Sitting in her chambers, Celebrían watched Celebriníel laying the finishing touch on an essay she had been working on for the past four weeks now. There was an air of expectancy about the rest of the house, but if her daughter was aware of the atmosphere, she was ignoring it. Much like her father she was able to lock out everything around her when concentrating on her work. 

Celebrían had only a vague notion of what had happened between Celebriníel and Ereinion during his last visit, some months ago, but knowing both, and acknowledging Ereinion's arguments on this, she could easily guess. Celebriníel had not spoken a word of it. And any letters Ereinion sent were, as far as she could tell, still in secret. 

_A year now_, she thought, and wondered if it was something her daughter dwelled on as well. _From today only a year_. 

A knock on the open door of the chamber startled Celebrían out of her thoughts, but she recovered easily and watched Elernil enter, depositing what looked to be a box on the table where Celebriníel sat. Her grandson glanced at her, and she returned a smile. He smiled back and subsequently raised an eyebrow at Celebriníel. 

'He told me to bring it to you at once, I was not allowed to see to anything else first.' He looked at the small object, which seemed heavy. 'Not that I would have considered dragging _that_ all over the house.' Nodding, he stepped back. 'I will go and see Daeradar now.' 

Almost as suddenly as he had entered, he had left again, and from across the library sounded a knock and the opening and closing of the door to Elrond's study. 

Sitting back, Celebriníel stared at the object wrapped in dark blue cloth for a moment, before shifting her gaze to rest on her mother.

'Does this mean he is not coming?'

Rising, Celebrían walked over. 

'Not necessarily. First see what he sends, before drawing conclusions. I shall be on the other side of the library.'

Closing the door behind her with a smile, Celebrían lingered a little before continuing onwards, entering the study across from hers, joining her husband and grandson. 

With uncertain fingers, Celebriníel meanwhile unfolded the material. A wooden strongbox appeared, decorated beautifully with ornately carved trees and flowers, a silver latch at the front. It opened with a sharp snap as she pushed it up. Raising the lid, she found the interior was covered with a very dark blue velvet. At the bottom lay a notebook, the cover of the same coloured material, and also a rectangular wooden box which proved to contain a silver pen similarly engraved as the box. A carefully secured ink jar, silver and glass, held a small note captive against the back of the chest. 

Taking a deep breath she took it out, and caught a small bag of blue velvet that fell out simultaneously. Holding it in her hand, she let her eyes run over the familiar scrawl on the paper. 

_Do not think me heartless for sending you this, instead of doing as I should, presenting it personally.   
I write this note in haste, in-between council sessions, so Elernil can take it with him as he follows his father to celebrate your begetting day. I tried to come, but I fear there were other factors involved, factors I cannot ignore.   
I will follow, if not soon,_

_Until then,  
Yours,_

_E_

_Note: It seemed safer to transport your actual present inside something which no one will consider awkward for me to send. _

Refolding the letter and dropping it into the box, Celebriníel sat back, more than a little disappointed. Thoughtfully she turned the velvet bag in her fingers. 

Possibly the only thing that would have made this day remotely bearable was his presence. She had looked forward to seeing him again, not having been face to face ever since their rather ambiguous exchanges last winter. Ereinion's letters had become slightly more personal, but somehow he seemed careful not to reveal all. 

Holding her hand up, she poured the contents of the little pouch into it. 

A delicate stone came first, followed by a fine silver chain which was attached to it. Amazed, she stared at it, and watched the blue of the stone turn darker a moment, then light again. It was quite beautiful, she had to admit. 

For a moment, she contemplated throwing the stone into the box and sending it all back to Tirion again. Never before he had done this, and it made her feel as if he somehow tried to compensate for his absence. 

Still holding the jewel in her hand, she crossed the room and gazed through one of the windows down into the garden. 

She realised she had been oblivious to most of the guests arriving for the celebration. Somehow it was hard to imagine why her parents were so adamant to observe this to such a large extent. Especially since neither of them ever bothered when it concerned their own begetting days. 

And Ereinion... He _knew_ how she felt about today, she had written of it to him extensively. He had to have known how important it was to her that he would be here. With a sigh she looked down, gazing at the necklace.

'Curse you, Ereinion. And myself as well for caring so much.' 

--~~*~~--

Already the gardens were filled with Elves, most of them dressed in white as was the custom at these celebrations, some wearing the masks that had been made a voluntary option of the evening. Bursts of laughter came from all directions; those present seemed to be enjoying themselves. 

Celebriníel stood and looked on for a moment, before leaving the doorway and stepping into view. Immediately a happy cry rang out. 

'Briníel!' 

With a grin Celebriníel caught Almarinde as she ran up to her, wearing a very simple mask, much resembling the one her father wore. Elladan stood a little removed, with Almariel on his arm, speaking to Galadriel. Celebriníel pulled at her niece's mask. 

'And who is this hiding behind there?' 

The small girl chuckled and fumbled with her hair, showing her aunt the loose braids that had been set there. Celebriníel smiled. It was not difficult to recognise her father's handiwork. 

Almarinde shifted on her aunt's arm to be able to look around more. Seeing her grandparents, who had followed a little behind, she enthusiastically indicated she wished to switch arms. With a smile, Elrond complied. 

Celebrían slipped her arm through Celebriníel's and together they strolled over to where Celeborn stood. 

'Is something the matter, Briníel?'

Shaking her head, the younger of the two ladies smiled.

'I just find myself wondering if the masks were such a good idea.'

An amused look in her eyes, Celebrían chuckled. 

'Now, your nieces would not have forgiven us had we called off the masks. And you shall see, many will disregard it altogether. Your father plans to, in any case.'

Chuckling, Celebriníel nodded. 

'Ereinion said it was a nice touch, though when he mentioned something about wearing masks in politics, and that this would be a good way to practise how to act if I were ever to find myself in Tirion's polite society, I began to suspect he was teasing me.'

Laughing quietly, Celebrían touched her daughter's arm lightly with her free hand.

'But you must remember Ereinion usually mocks the things he rather likes, and masks are typically something he enjoys. Perhaps because it is easy to pretend to be someone else.'

Celebriníel glanced at her mother.

'Well, apparently he did not enjoy masks enough to come.'

Placing an arm around her daughter's shoulder, Celebrían pressed her lips against Celebriníel's forehead. 

'No doubt he will come soon.'

'I merely wish I was older, Nana, because all this would not matter if I were.'

With a curious smile, Celebrían looked at her daughter. 

'Do not be in such a hurry to grow up, meluihên. Leave your father and me this last year in which we can pretend you are still our little girl.'

--~~*~~--

Catching the hand she was offered, Celebriníel was not very certain who it was inviting her to dance, since Elernil was still speaking to her, and she was still laughing. At the moment, she was quite certain she had danced with just about everyone already.

But as she faced the masked Elf, taller than Arinmîr, more broad shouldered than Elernil, she could not help but hold her breath for a moment, before quickly finding her father in the crowd. Seeing him laughing with her mother and Almarinde, she looked up at her dance partner, trying not to raise her voice. 

'You are here!'

With an experienced gesture, he gave her a nod before leading her, at once making for the epicentre of the dancers. Celebriníel noticed he was broadly smiling. Placing a hand on her waist, waiting for her hand on his shoulder, she felt their other hands meet as if it were a natural thing. In reality, it made the blood rise to her cheeks, and her stomach flutter ceaselessly. 

'Follow my lead,' Ereinion whispered, giving her a wink. 

For a moment she hesitated, then gave in, and let herself be swept away. 

'I should really kick you,' she whispered after a while, causing him to chuckle happily. 

'It would be allowed, my actions were horrible. But I stress, at the moment I wrote you the note, I had the full intention of actually attending the required meetings.' 

'But you did not, eventually?' 

'I did not,' he confirmed mischievously. 'But I had a hard time finding white clothing and a good mask. All my garments seem to have something to do with blue, nowadays.'

'I could have cared less about what you were or were not wearing.'

'No clothes at all would have been so very conspicuous,' he shot back, grinning. 'And that would not have done at all. My plan was to sweep in secretly, and later on, sweep out equally secretly.'

As he spoke, the music around them changed, picking up pace. 

At first Celebriníel did not notice, too busy concentrating on her partner and the dance, but as the amount of couples on the dance floor diminished considerably, she looked up at Ereinion. 

'I am not certain I like the part about you slipping away again secretly.'

'My choice of words was _sweep_.'

'It means the same in this case, does it not?'

'You, my lady,' he said to her, bringing his lips closer to her ear, 'are much too attentive to details.'

She smiled and bowed her head a moment.

'And you, my Lord, are having too much fun. Possibly at another person's expense.'

Instead of replying, he led her into a turn, releasing her a moment, his body much closer than before when they met again. 

'Still with me?' he whispered. 

Locking her eyes with his, Celebriníel pressed closer again in response, squeezing his upper arm.

'Still here.'

They stood still for a moment, trying to gather breath, judging each other's responses.

When they finally continued, any actual direction had gone, resulting in something improvised, driven by reaction upon reaction, turning more swift and challenging as the music, too, moved to its climax. 

In the end, there was applause, but neither of them seemed to be paying much attention to it. 

Celebriníel felt her breath almost out of control, but knew it was not because of the dance. With a smile, but his eyes very serious, Ereinion brought her hand, which he had still not released, to his lips. She acknowledged it with a nod, and then he released her and stepped back, at which point they both went into different directions. 

Neither of them dared look to where Elrond stood. Ereinion was quite certain he would receive a very questioning, and probably scrutinising gaze. And he was most assuredly not up to that at this point. 

As he slipped away, towards the house, he observed Celebriníel go into the general direction of the gardens. 

He had intended to leave now, before any curious questions could be put to him; retrieve his horse and return either to Tirion, or find one of the shelters near the waterway, to spend the night there. 

He had not planned on following anyone into ill-lit gardens, for whatever purpose. This had been a very foolish enterprise to begin with, he tried to tell himself. And only something sensible could make up for it. Sensible would be to inform Celebrían, find an excuse for Elrond, spend the night here, and then go back to Tirion in the morning. 

But Celebriníel... His gaze wandered towards the gardens again, noticing she had not been the only one to venture into that direction. 

They had to know rain was approaching, he thought. It was in the air. Perhaps even thunder due to the pressure of the spring evening. For a moment he merely stood there, contemplating. Stables, or forest. Sensible or irresponsible. 

But before he knew it, he was taking off his mask, making his way down as well. 

She had seen him do so, he knew she had. It seemed as if she had vanished at the moment, and he could do nothing but follow into the direction she had disappeared in, not knowing where he was going, and in a sense, not caring.

It began to rain softly, and as he left the garden path, he could distinguish close-by squeals from others who fled the increasing rain. 

Not he. Not Celebriníel either. 

By the time he stepped onto a new path, a much more hidden one, his tunic clung to his chest, clammy, almost pleasant, giving the sense of physical contact. And yet so far from it...

This path was wet, the light of a lonely tree-lantern reflecting in a layer of water, and as he watched it, he saw her stand beneath one of the cherry trees, which was in full bloom, the white blossom almost lighting up as if it were snow on a winter night. 

_You should return_, he told himself. _You should not be here._

But he did not. Nearing, he wondered if they could pretend they were mere strangers, since that was the only way it would not matter. 

Celebriníel looked at him, her eyes glimmering in that familiar manner he had come to love so. 

And then she reached her hand out to him, there, where even the drops that fell from the branches smelt sweet, and he took it, allowing himself to be pulled along.

As they walked together there were no words, they simply made their way through the woods, evaded the occasional branch, all the while voices and laughter in the distance, the sound of rain dripping on leaves. 

When they finally halted, Ereinion feared there would be need to speak.

'Celebriníel...' he whispered, avoiding her eyes a little. 

'You came,' she smiled happily, reaching out to take the mask he was still holding in one of his hands.

Ereinion looked at her as he released it, trying to control his breath, his body, his mind, the blood streaming through his veins. Still smiling she looked up at him again and squeezed the hand she was still holding in hers. He could do nothing but stare, his heart beating fast. 

It was still there, it was truly there. She loved him, had forgiven him for being the fool that he was, forgiven him for staying away. He wanted to sing, weep, dance, and embrace her all at the same time. 

'Oh, blast it,' he whispered, and bent towards her. He found that he had arrived at a point where he would willingly undergo any punishment that could be put upon him for doing this. 

His breath was on her face for a moment, and then his warm lips touched upon hers. For a moment Celebriníel thought her heart had stopped, until she felt her stomach flutter and almost by instinct brought her free hand up, tentatively resting it against Ereinion's neck. 

The short kiss left them both short of breath, and at the same time desperate for more.

His breathing increased as Ereinion drew her closer and placed an arm around her waist, trailing his lips across her neck, feeling her brush hers along his ear. 

'And still, you would not speak it?' he heard her whisper. 

At a loss for words, he withdrew slightly and stared at her, allowing himself to trail his fingers lightly over her cheek. The look on her face seemed to lie somewhere between expectancy and regret over speaking the words. 

'If this is a dream,' he finally whispered, resting a hand against her face, 'I might just as well...'

Her arms slipped easily around his neck, and before either of them knew it, they were caught up in a more fiery embrace, fingers combing through hair, lips moving over other lips, tasting, discovering, answering. 

'Not here,' Celebriníel whispered at length, and pulled him along, deeper into her father's gardens. 

And nothing remained but to follow. 

Her white dress had stopped fluttering, and now clung to her as a second skin, emphasising every curve and rounding Ereinion knew his mind should not be focussing on.

When she halted, he could not help but press against her, both because of their fast pace and because he wished to, her hands drawing him in as well. Resting his own hands on her back, he searched her lips out again, feeling her fingers on his sides, almost on his skin... Almost... 

'I love you,' he whispered against her mouth, before claiming it again, making her whimper softly, almost clinging to him. He had known there would come a time when it would be easier to speak those words than to hold them back. But somehow he had not expected it to be so soon. 

Ending the kiss, he simply embraced her, burying his face in her hair. 

'I should not have come, but I do not regret it.'

Celebriníel stayed silent, but he could feel her fingers clasping his tunic, as if somehow she needed to convince herself he was real. Her whisper was hoarse, as she spoke softly against his shoulder. 

'I do not regret it either.'

When she looked up at him again, he shook his head, not certain what to say next. 

'Briníel...'

She silenced him by pressing her lips against his gently, only to end the embrace and step back, severing all physical contact between them, except the hand he still held, his fingers entwined with hers. 

Bringing them up to his lips, he met her eyes. She only kept his gaze for a moment, and he knew she understood. 

Then she bowed her head and let go, gone again before he could do anything further. He did not follow. 

Perchance this had indeed been merely a dream, he reflected. It could very well be he had followed shadows of his own mind, of his own desire, into the evening, now turned night. 

Shrugging the feeling off, he decided to find his way to the stables at once. He would go. But not to Tirion. Not yet. 

Anyone observing might have noticed the new vigour in the tread of the High Prince, even if he would have denied it himself. 

--~~*~~-- 

Anar shone on the sandy riverbank, and the heat it emanated was pleasant on Ereinion's skin. The water ran as it always did, purposefully. _But it had no real choice_, he thought, looking on. He sat quietly watching, his arms resting on his knees. 

'You should have taken some wine, yesterday, and blamed all this foolishness on being drunk,' he grumbled, picking up a pebble and flinging it into the water. 

Then he chuckled. There was no denying he felt good, better than he had in a long time. Spending the night besides the stream had in no way diminished his mood, even if it had not exactly helped dry his clothes. 

The rain had helped the watercourse swell, but fortunately it had not increased enough to escape its banks. The sky stretched out above him, just as the land on the other side of the river below. Green grass moved to the whims of the wind_. It was magnificent,_ he thought. 

But his time here had not been spent just admiring the scenery. He was here to clear his mind. All had been said now, he realised all too well. And the only question worth asking at this time was how to continue. 

_What awaits me when I go back? Everything? Or nothing?_

The ground beneath his feet was comfortable, once again the grass was blown down by a current of air. From afar he could see the road leading from Tirion, the heat trembling above it.

He liked the fact that no one knew he was here, that this time was his, not to be taken from him, not to be given away without his expressed consent. The space around him, the very depth of nature, soothed him.

It was good to be loved. She loved him. Just this once, this person, cared about him.

He had wondered before, what he would have done if he had found his feelings not returned. How long it would have eaten him from the inside, until he could not have endured it any longer. How long he could have lain awake, fearing sleep, afraid of what dreams might bring...

Suddenly he discerned footsteps behind him, and Elernil emerged from the woods, apparently as startled to find him here as he was of the other's appearance. He was running too fast for Ereinion's liking. On his feet a moment later, he looked at him questioningly. 

'Stay, Elernil, what is the matter?'

'Ereinion, Briníel...'

He was all-attention at once.

'Where? What has happened?'

The Elf-lord began pushing the younger Elf into the direction he had come from.

'She fell,' Elernil stammered, 'you are familiar with the higher road, where the path is wet because of the rain?'

Letting go of the younger Elf, Ereinion was already gone.

Elernil had spoken of the more difficult path which ran to and from the waterway. Incidentally, it was also the more beautiful. He had taken the lower road himself last night, because it was both quicker and safer, especially in darkness and after rain. Usually he would have thought about placing warning signs, he had taught Elernil to years ago, but somehow he had not expected anyone to even think of taking the higher road anytime soon. He quietly cursed himself for thinking so lightly of it. 

Coming upon what had to be Elernil's possessions lying in the middle of the path, Ereinion grabbed hold of a nearby tree, leaning over the precipice. 

Spotting her at once, he was hesitant to call, uncertain how serious this was.

'Briníel!' 

Pale-faced, she looked up at him. It seemed to take a moment before she was able to focus enough to recognise him.

'Ereinion?'

He acknowledged the reason for Elernil's distress at once. 

The place where Celebriníel had come down was only a natural protrusion of rock, quite a way down. If she had fallen deeper, the situation would no doubt have been more grave. 

Not even for a moment did he allow himself to consider how much more grave. The problem now was how to reach her, and from there, more importantly, bring her to safety. 

He heard footsteps again, and found Elernil nearing. 

'I did not bring rope,' he said, anxiously, hunching down to search the backpack again. 

With a comforting pat on the shoulder Ereinion looked at him. 

'I do not think we shall require any rope. I do not intend to bring her up here again, I intend to bring her down.'

'But how will you make your way downwards?'

It seemed Elernil had already judged the rock face too steep to climb down from himself. 

Looking at the younger Elf closely, Ereinion narrowed his eyes. 

'I will find a way. Now promise me you shall not panic.'

Elernil shook his head, his voice soft.

'How can I not? I brought her here. I am responsible.'

'Panic will not help. If I had set markers yesterday when I came here, you might not have taken the high road at all. This is not your fault. Blaming yourself will not turn back time, nor change the situation we find ourselves in. Agreed?'

'Yes.'

Holding on to the tree, Ereinion directed his attention down again.

'Briníel, are you well?'

Trying to keep herself from bursting out in tears of anger, she nodded.

'I think so. But I cannot climb down from this blasted spot.'

Elernil tried to look down as well.

'She tried to stand earlier, but nearly lost balance and I told her not to move any further. I cannot say how strong the stone is. It might not hold very long.'

'Now then,' Ereinion placed both hands on Elernil's shoulders. 'I am going to send you back to the house, and I want you to alert your grandfather, or anyone else you can find. I shall meanwhile try and help Celebriníel, but if I cannot find a way, it shall be easier with their help.'

'I am supposed to leave you?' Elernil replied, incredulously. 

'Do you not think I can handle this little thing?' Ereinion responded, trying to speak courage into the both of them. 'Now, run off, the faster you go, the sooner this will be over. But be careful. I do not intend to collect you from precipices too.'

With a quick nod, hesitating a short moment, Elernil was off again, into the direction of the river, evidently taking the fastest way across; swimming.

Ereinion bit his lip, sighing deeply. 

_Be glad you do not have a fear of heights._

'I do not have a fear of heights,' he told himself. 'I have a fear of falling.'

He threw a calculating glance over to a tree which grew all the way from a lower ledge. It was several arm lengths away from where he stood, but there was little to support any suspicion that it would hold his weight. 

On the one hand, he knew it was wiser to wait. On the other, he was determined to either be with her, or break his neck while trying. 

He grinned, then shook his head.

_Acts of such an impulsive nature were what got you into trouble a lifetime ago, Ereinion._

'Ah, but here are no Maiar swinging maces,' he replied to himself. 'So stop delaying, and get on with it.'

Taking a deep breath, he stepped back, then jumped forward.

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Uhm, sorry... ;)


	26. All That Matters

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A bit of R-rated stuff at the end, I suppose. Because I can't help myself. 

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**Chapter Twenty-Five     All That Matters**

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From above came a noisy crash, leaves fell, together with small twigs that had not been able to survive the onslaught of a grown Elf flinging himself into the foliage. Celebriníel looked up, observing Ereinion clinging to the tree, holding on for a moment, apparently judging the strength of the trunk and branches, before climbing down swiftly, using neighbouring branches as footholds, until he had reached the level on which she found herself.

He smiled at her, dark green smudges of the tree's bark clearly visible on his face and hands. It was one of the most reassuring sights she could have imagined. 

'Judging from this short distance, I trust the rock will hold us both, so I will attempt to come over to you.'

She nodded breathlessly. 

Using a sturdy branch as support, he set off from there, balancing upon it for a few steps, before reaching the rock surface after a short jump. Breathing in deeply, he smiled down at her, his eyes meeting hers reassuringly. 

'I thought you would like some company.'

'Undeniably, I am very grateful for it,' Celebriníel answered, not able to keep from smiling back. Something in his presence made all this seem less serious. Though it was not quite possible to deny reality. 'But now we are both stuck here.' 

With a content grin, Ereinion shrugged and neared, lowering beside her. From there, he gave her an examining look.

'Anything broken?'

She shook her head.

'I do not believe so, that is why I am so angry. If anything had been broken, or otherwise hurt, there would have been a reason for me being here at present.'

Ereinion nodded, bringing up a hand to carefully guide back some strands of her hair. Then, as if he had just caught himself at something, he rose again, moving towards the edge of the rock to gaze down pensively.

Celebriníel watched him, considering he now seemed very different from the persona he had been last night. For a moment, she could hear her mother's words echo in her mind. _Perhaps a mask makes it easier to pretend to be someone else._

'I do not mean to stay here, or leave you here, for that,' his voice interrupted her thoughts.

She frowned, dismissing her reflections, and looked up at him. 

'What do you propose?'

'The tree I just came from reaches a good half of the distance further down. The way from there is steep, but not impossible to descend by. You can stand?'

She nodded. 

'I believe so.'

Walking around a little, Ereinion judged their surroundings, prior to making for the edge again. The tree was nearer to the side here than it had been above, but the rock was slippery with saturated mosses, making it far more difficult to reach. And it was not as if he could ask Celebriníel to fling herself at it with the same abandon he had just displayed. 

He stood very silent for a while, collecting himself. It was important to have confidence now, for himself as well as for Celebriníel. It would not help to see obstacles where none were present, but neither was it wise to underestimate what they were about to attempt. 

Taking a deep breath for what seemed to be the umpteenth time, he turned and smiled. 

'Let me help you up.'

Reaching for the hand he offered, Celebriníel allowed herself to be pulled up, and felt Ereinion place an arm around her waist before guiding her towards the rock's edge. 

'Now, I will go first, and then assist you.'

He seemed hesitant to leave her to stand on her own, but nevertheless did so, reaching for a branch and using it to leap into the tree again. 

The part of the tree which was supporting him did not seem entirely trustworthy, and briefly his face reflected that. A moment later, Celebriníel could only wonder if she had truly seen that glimpse of worry. He seemed confident enough now, holding out his hand. 

'Come on, make haste.' 

Ereinion listened to her inhale deeply, and was glad to subsequently feel her hand take a hold of his. 

When she released it again, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest, and an audible gasp escaped his lips. With a shiver he almost immediately felt an arm secure itself around his neck, and he pulled her against him in reaction, at the same time quickly retreating closer to the tree's stem. 

'Bloody Mandos...' he whispered, embracing her more tightly. 'Are you all right?'

She nodded slowly, resting her face against his shoulder. 

'I am fine.'

'Well, good. You are no woodelf, you know.'

'I know,'  she replied, with an exhilaration which, he suspected, served as an outlet for the short but tense situation the both of them had just emerged from. Holding her for a little longer, he finally pulled back and smiled. Then his eyes fell on a familiar blue stone hanging from a chain around her neck, and he extended a finger to brush it lightly. 

'You like it?'

With a thin smile she met his eyes. 

'I am uncertain. I came very close to sending it right back to you.'

He nodded slowly.

'Ah... I see.'

'I was just... disappointed, I suppose.'

Chuckling, Ereinion shook his head, but stayed silent. Celebriníel gave him a questioning look.

'What is so amusing?'

'I had suspected, somehow, you might even like the box and the writing equipment better.'

Blushing a pretty scarlet, the young Elf smiled guiltily, making Ereinion laugh even more. 

'I will think twice about sending you presents then, in the future,' he said with a teasing shake of the head. Then he loosened his hold on her and glanced to the closest branch beneath them. 

'Ready?' he asked, looking back at her. 

She gazed back seriously. 

'Very ready.'

The climb down was less eventful, Ereinion careful to find strong branches to stand on, and slowly helping Celebriníel downwards. Once at the foot of the tree, on the next ledge, he nodded in satisfaction. 

'Just as I thought.'

Celebriníel frowned.

'What?'

'This ledge,' he pointed, 'has a place where we can easily make our way down to the lower path, which runs beside the river.'

She nodded.

'You lead the way, I shall follow.'

With a smile he shook his head and stepped closer. 

'Put your arm around my neck.'

Looking at him with amused disbelief, she chuckled. 

'You are jesting.'

Returning a serious look, Ereinion stood firm, but Celebriníel raised an eyebrow. 

'Chivalry is all well and good, but this seems a bit... overdramatic. Besides, I will not take the blame for you slipping and breaking your neck because of it.'

'At least I can tell your father I took care of you as best I could,' he replied gravely, all the while very much aware of her breath on his face. 

'I would support that, even without you carrying me around.'

She offered her hand, and he took it, slightly reluctant. 

Even though they were both silent, Ereinion could feel Celebriníel's eyes on his back. He ignored the urge to turn to her, instead carefully deciding on their way down, eyes always judging the path, watchful for the treacherous slopes and mossy patches, knowing either could mean more tumbling. They might seem true, yet he knew they were all but that after the previous evening's rain. 

Every once in a while, he could feel her hand increase its pressure on his, helping her to keep balance, but at the same time it was a very distracting contact. 

Instead, he attempted to concentrate on his surroundings. 

Through the trees, he could see the humidity escaping the woods, on the other side of the forested slope. It resembled smoke, reminding him, as it always did, of the living breathing whole the forest was. Still far, far down, ran the river. Overhanging branches seemed to collaborate against them at times, barring them from proceeding, but he did not allow it, receiving minute scrapes on his face and hands as marks of his persistence, but also of success in clearing the way. He suddenly realised he missed the physical scars of his previous life, in his shoulder, at his side; marks of battle, of arrow and sword. 

Sometimes, if he concentrated enough, he thought he could still feel them.

And her hand was still in his. 

They reached the place of which he had spoken before without having exchanged a word.

The rise was still too steep to really walk down from, and Ereinion closed his eyes for a moment, deep in silent contemplation. 

'Perhaps we should simply try,' Celebriníel offered, looking down as well. 

'Just hold on,' he warned, stepping down, using one hand to climb further down, to steady his way. 'But if I slide away, be sure to release...' 

It was then that one of his feet indeed slipped away and they plunged downwards, reaching the lowest point in a flash, Ereinion taking most of the fall, pulling Celebriníel along. 

Upon having reached the bottom of the slope, he groaned and closed his eyes, yet also savoured the feel of steady ground beneath him. 

'Ereinion, fool, you walk like one of the Secondborn, heavy and unsound,' he scolded himself.

'Well, that was certainly entertaining.' Celebriníel said, giving him a short poke in the ribs. 'Remind me never to let you force me into something like that again. Ever.' 

Opening his eyes, he sat up, already aware where new bruises were likely to appear. 

'At least we are down.'

Celebriníel followed his example. 

'You could have broken your neck. I could have broken my neck.'

'But neither of us did.'

Celebriníel looked at him. 

'Indeed, neither of us did.' 

Hesitating, she bent towards him and pressed her lips against his cheekbone. Then she made to rise quickly, offering him her hand, but he pulled her down again and wavered a moment before placing a hand on her cheek and claiming a less innocent kiss. Bringing up his other hand, he ran it through her hair, letting his lips wander and brush her cheek as he felt her touch his side. 

Withdrawing to catch his breath, and to look at her, he found her eyes closed. When she opened them after a while, there was a distinct twinkle in them, and she touched his cheek affectionately. 

'We much resemble something that recently emerged from a swamp.'

Neither of them could help laughing and Ereinion stroked her cheek with his thumb. 

'Nothing hurt?'

'No,' she assured him, 'though I wish you had done as you told me to, and released me up there before you decided to take the quick route down.'  She pointed towards the ledge they had just unceremoniously descended from. 

He nodded.

'Quite. Rest assured I shall keep that in mind for future use.'

As she rose again, Ereinion pushed himself up too. He then attempted to brush off some of the mud which had irreverently attached itself to his clothes, only increasing the stains. Shrugging and admitting defeat, he offered Celebriníel a hand, before continuing on the much more even path. 

'You came by horse?' he asked quietly, as they moved beneath ancient trees, nearing the overpass which would lead to the meadow where he had left his own mount. Squeezing his hand, she nodded.

'We left them near the crossing.'

'Do you think you can ride?'

'I have no reason to think I cannot.'

Once they went across the bridge the problem was solved when several riders neared them, the one riding in front increasing speed upon seeing them. 

Elrond had little patience with the horse coming to a total standstill and dismounted effortlessly, ostensibly without a second thought. 

Nearing Ereinion, he did what he had done as soon as he saw them, and mumbled yet another expression of quiet thanks to Elbereth. He watched his friend release his daughter's hand, and the next thing he felt were Celebriníel's arms around his neck. Sighing in relief, he pressed her close, closing his eyes shortly, then looking at Ereinion.

'Hennaid, meldir-nîn.'

The High Prince bowed in reply, then turned to scan the meadow for his own horse which he had left to graze. It was with new appreciation that he watched the wind blow over the green grass of the field, listened to birds singing. Breathing in deeply he watched the sky, only now realising he was tired, and that his back ached. 

But it did not matter. Nothing mattered. _Or rather_, he thought, _everything mattered_. 

--~~*~~--

Leaving her daughter's chambers, Celebrían's mind was still preoccupied as she encountered her husband. He stood by a window in the hallway silently, his gaze distant. Eyes fixed on something below, he seemed too deep in thought to notice the first stars had come out to greet him beyond. Celebrían would have smiled, if the waves of emotion flooding from Elrond had not troubled her. He was calling, unconsciously, but calling nevertheless.

Quietly she neared.

_Meleth-nîn..._

Feeling her presence, hearing her reach out to him, he faced her. A warm smile played across his lips, but it did in no way echo his feelings, Celebrían was all too well aware. Without speaking a word, she placed her arms around him, slipping them underneath his robes, encircling his waist. Still smiling, Elrond returned the embrace, resting his head on hers. 

'Wiser than I, you are, melethril,' he spoke softly. 

Looking up at him, Celebrían shook her head. 

'And why is that, Elrond?' 

Bringing up his hand, he touched her face with his fingertips, following the cheekbone until he rested his palm against it. 

'In afterthought, for as long as you have suspected, you have somehow managed to slowly accustom me to the idea. You never allowed it to trouble you, so it did not trouble me, even if I was not exactly aware of it.' 

The final words of the utterance seemed to be an admission on his part, as if somehow he blamed himself for not recognising it sooner. 

'When did you realise?' she whispered up to him, observing his grey eyes returning her gaze, not truly seeing. 

'That she loved someone? Or that it was Ereinion?' he spoke pensively, unhurriedly, preoccupied. Almost as if he was exceedingly weary. 

'Either... Both.' 

'I only suspected at first.' He smiled weakly. 'She reminds me of myself, when I was without you. I was preoccupied with Almarinde and Almariel, or else I would have noticed sooner. That it was Ereinion... I have only known since yesterday.' He inclined his head towards the window, indicating the figure that walked outside, beneath the trees. 'But he does not enter. Instead he walks there, as if it will soothe his mind.' 

Silently they observed the view for a moment, of Ereinion's pacing below, hunched shoulders, bowed head. With a short squeeze of Elrond's hand, Celebrían looked up at him.

'She will not leave, Elrond. This is no separation until the end of Arda.'

Elrond blankly stared across the garden a while before answering.

'He... She is still so young, Brí.'

'Would you forbid it?'

Ignoring the question, he posed another, now facing her intently. 

'Does he love her?'

'Can you not tell?' she asked, but he did not answer, though his contemplative gaze wandering back to Ereinion in the garden below seemed answer enough. Turning her gaze there again as well, Celebrían rested her cheek against Elrond's shoulder. 'He has loved her for some time, only spoke it after she indicated her feelings towards him.' 

'If he had not... If he had not fallen in Mordor, he would have been nearly seven millennia her senior...'

Gazing up, Celebrían found her husband staunchly looking on, not willing to meet her eyes. He loved them, both of them, one as a brother, the other as his child, but deep down there was something that warned him of potential consequences. 

'For all we know he would have married another, would have had a family of his own by now. It would have been different, El-nîn.' She looked at him. 'He did fall.'

'I know,' he whispered. 'But I wish she would wait a little. She knows so little of the essence of Arda... And I would not want him to change her.' He paused and sighed ruefully. 'And she is not a politician's wife...'

Celebrían smiled. 

'I do not believe Ereinion thinks of himself as a politician.'

Elrond nodded slowly.

'I will not speak of this until either of them comes to me...'

'It will not be soon, methinks,' Celebrían replied, catching his hand yet again and entwining her fingers with his. 'They still seem to be circling around each other.'

Meeting her eyes expressively, Elrond took to more quiet conversation. 

_I merely hope Ereinion is wise enough to circle somewhat unenthusiastically._

Raising an eyebrow, Celebrían looked up at him, wondering if even for an instant he had contemplated speaking such words out loud. 

_Or what?_ she answered, realising he was attempting to clear the air of what had been said in earnest before.

Flashing a smug smile, glad she had understood, Elrond pursed his lips. 

_Or I shall chase him out of my house personally._

'If you do, I shall chase you right after him, Elrond Peredhil,' Celebrían returned with a laugh.

'I believe you actually would too, lady,' he said, pretending to sound aggrieved, while squeezing her hand reassuringly. 

Celebrían shook her head and closed her eyes. 

'We both know what it is to wait for the one you love.'

'Though I would argue duty here, is not what duty was in Middle-earth.' 

'I do not think I preferred duty in Middle-earth,' she commented. 

Elrond nodded. 

'I do not believe I truly did either.' 

'I should not think so,' Celebrían answered, giving him a meaningful smile. 

Clearing his throat, Elrond directed his voice to someone else. Neither he nor Celebrían had perceived the sound of the door to Celebriníel's chambers closing, and they were now confronted with Elernil standing in the hallway. He still seemed anxious, even though he had just left Celebriníel's presence, and having been assured several times that nothing was wrong with her. 

'Elernil, could you inform Ereinion he can, if he so wishes, come up to see Celebriníel?'

The young Elf nodded and, after receiving a reassuring look from Celebrían, disappeared.

Not waiting for his grandson to appear in the garden beneath, Elrond caught Celebrían's hand and silently made for their chambers. 

--~~*~~--

Ereinion was relieved not to find anyone in attendance as he entered the corridor. Somehow, anyone's presence would have been uncomfortable. Upon reaching the door to Celebriníel's chambers, he knocked shortly before slipping inside. There he stood, the door handle still in his hand, basking in the smile that welcomed him. 

From her comfortable place in the large bed Celebriníel looked at him, nothing left of the anxiety of this afternoon.

'For a moment I thought you had left,' she told him. 

His stomach was... in any case it was not where it was supposed to be. Closing the door quietly, he approached the bed and took a nearby chair. 

'I will leave, before nightfall, I just wished to ascertain you were well.'

Both were silent until Celebriníel sat up. 

'Were you worried?' she asked, pulling up her legs under the sheets and resting her arms on them. She seemed so much more at ease than he was right now, Ereinion thought. He considered a slight alteration of the truth briefly, then shifted on his chair and averted his gaze. 

'Yes.' he admitted.

'Very worried?' Celebriníel urged. 

He nodded, and looked at the pale-faced girl again. 

'Quite.'

'Tell me?'

'I...' he began, then rose and sat down on the bed, reaching for her hand. She gladly granted it to him, and he stared at the long slender fingers a while before bringing them up to his lips. 'Promise me you will not tell your father how foolish I was.'

She chuckled and nodded. 

'I promise.'

Ereinion did not reply, turning her hand as if he were studying it. She simply watched him, her head slightly tilted, waiting. 

'All the while, I thought of how it might have ended,' he began softly. 'I recalled how I took you and Elernil to the waterway when you were younger, and I could not... I would not have forgiven myself if something had happened. I brought you there. I was responsible, you see.' 

Changing position and resting her other hand on his arm, Celebriníel shook her head.

'No one would have dared...'

Meeting her eyes, he smiled weakly. 

'But I would have known.' 

He felt his breath become irregular as her hands clasped his arm in reply, their gazes still locked. After all this time of delaying, anticipating, if something had happened today... He did not know what his reaction would have been. Bringing up his other hand, he softly touched her cheek. 

'The thought that I could have lost you, after only so recently...'

Then he drew her into his arms to embrace her, for love, for comfort, for life, because it all seemed to focus in this one mere moment. Celebriníel answered by pressing herself against him, moving her hands over his back soothingly, her head against his shoulder.

Her voice was a whisper when she finally spoke. 

'I would not wish to be without you. Not now, not ever.' 

Ereinion did not feel he could answer, he merely waited, slowly trailing his fingers over her back, listening, savouring the closeness of her body. 

'In the gardens,' she started, a trace of tears in her voice. 'I knew that was only short-lived, as soon as you said you thought you should not have come. I knew we would have to wait. But you do not know... how I thought of you... I...'

Withdrawing a little, he intended to console her with a smile, but instead his lips unexpectedly met hers. He could not be certain who had initiated the kiss, only that neither of them seemed unwilling to continue. Her lips were warm against his, and he realised how easy it would be to abandon himself to them right there and then. He did, for a short while, caught up in a caressing series of movements, consisting of exploring and severing contact shortly, only to return and start over again. 

If there was a sense of reclaiming time here, it was mixed with the knowledge that this, all of it, would have to last them both a while, he thought. A year. One silly year. 

At last he withdrew and rested his forehead against hers, not ready to let go entirely yet. 

'Believe me, if the choice were mine, and your age was of no importance, I would not go.' 

Looking at him, she smiled, then gazed away. 

'It is better. You return to Tirion, and we shall not speak of this for a year.' She glanced up at him. 'And then we shall decide how to go further about this.'

Ereinion did not reply, simply catching one of her hands once more, and exerting a comfortable pressure on it as it lay in his. 

'We should not speak of it yet,' she continued, looking at him earnestly. 'I have no intention to be scrutinised by the entirety of Tirion.'

Ereinion averted his gaze for a while, carefully weighing words in his mind. 

'Your father,' he finally managed. 'I do not wish to hurt him in any way. When your sister... I mean...'

Celebriníel shook her head. 

'I will speak to him. But perhaps it is better to wait for now.' 

With a nod, Ereinion rose.

'But when you speak of it to him,' he began, 'I wish to know. He will wish to speak to me as well.'

Raising her chin to face him, Celebriníel nodded. 

'I shall write to you.'

'Thank you.'

She smiled, and he bent down to quickly kiss her forehead. Running his fingers through her hair a last time, the High Prince smiled as well. 

'Navaer, hiril.'

Letting his hand slip out of hers, Celebriníel waited for him to turn upon reaching the door, and nodded.

'Navaer, hîr-nîn.'

As the door closed, she allowed herself to fall back into the pillows, and, pulling the sheets over her head, fully intended not to emerge before a year had passed. At least not without good reason. 

--~~*~~--

From the doorway Celebrían watched Elrond aimlessly going about the room, collecting a book from a table near the balcony, taking it to the bed and throwing it down, before removing his comfortable outer robes. Draping them over a chair he slipped into bed, but even though he purposely opened the book, it did not seem able to keep his attention. With a sigh he lay it away, settling back and closing his eyes. 

Collecting all the tranquillity she had in her, Celebrían slowly crossed the room, her eyes never leaving her husband's face. 

Upon arriving, she sat down on the side of the bed and caught his hand. 

'Havo-am, Elrond,' she whispered, trailing her hands over his shoulders as he pushed himself up. 

Almost half-heartedly did he pull up a leg, only to place his arms on it, and then resting his chin on top of them.   

A small smile playing on her lips, Celebrían moved closer, and he shifted slightly to allow her nearer. 

Unhurriedly, she ran a hand through his hair, at length encountering one of several braids she had personally set there this morning. Gently she began unfastening the intricate intertwined strands. 

They both sat so in silence for a time, minds touching only slightly, relishing a moment of pure physical contact. 

One of Elrond's arms left his knee, and he rested a hand on her thigh instead, the fingers cold. Celebrían did not let it distract her and ran her own fingers through the strands of hair she had just released. 

She continued further, and felt Elrond unwinding under her hands, his entire physique becoming more peaceful. Even in Middle-earth this course of action had worked well; simple attentions were often enough to make him come out of overly pensive states, enabling him to clear his mind. Pressing matters were often not as pressing when in a different, less intense light. 

Moving his other arm now too, he ran his fingers up, towards her face. 

With feather-light touches he went on to trail her cheekbone, until he motioned her face so her eyes met his. 

Intently watching him come closer, Celebrían felt his other hand travel to rest on her hip. 

Saying nothing, Elrond moved slowly, languidly. His lips met hers casually at first, leaving after only a moment, his grey eyes studying her response. Upon returning, Elrond deepened the kiss, lightly touching fingers to her neck. Celebrían closed her eyes and finally allowed one of her own hands to slip away from his hair, resting it on his side. 

Slowly lying back again, he pulled her along, and she smiled as his lips sought out hers. 

Withdrawing a little, Celebrían gently teased open his nightshirt and trailed kisses over his chest until she came close enough to meet Elrond's entreating lips again. Bringing up both hands, he held back her hair, and she halted, looking down at him and observing him smile tenderly. His hands never stopped being in motion, allowing the silver tresses to run through his fingers, only to repeat the process all over again when his hands were empty.  

'She loves him,' he whispered intently. 

Celebrían smiled. 

'As I love you.'

Lying down in his arms, she listened to his silent string of thoughts, but noticed that there was one point, one main argument, that seemed to return again and again, bringing him to reach the same conclusion every single time. It was not a new conclusion, she realised. 

At length, he sighed and closed his eyes. 

'It is all that matters.'

As she turned unto her back, Celebrían felt Elrond push himself up again, but now his gaze was fixed on her, a light in his grey eyes she was glad to recognise. Gathering him to her, answering his caresses, incapable of resisting them, she knew that, even though the last word had not been spoken of this, he had gathered his own facts, and come to the same conclusion as she had. 

Meanwhile Elrond had eased himself out of a last restricting garment and with an eager sigh indulged in a merging of lips. Gentle fingers had no trouble at all to help Celebrían to do the same, after which they both slowed in movement considerably. 

Shifting to lie on his side, Elrond smiled as he entwined his fingers with silver hair yet again, searching for her lips. Celebrían placed an arm around his chest and pressed closer, feeling his hand travel to her shoulder, further down to her back, to her thigh. There, he shifted her leg to rest on his hip, so he only needed to press his abdomen against hers to accomplish their coming together. 

With a sigh, Celebrían closed her eyes and felt Elrond run his fingers up and down the small of her back. Then he commenced movement, his breathing more strained than before. 

All qualms had disappeared from his thoughts, and Celebrían took pleasure in the uncomplicated enjoyment he emitted, sharing her own, the only difficulty arising were they to try and establish where hers began and his ended. 

Throwing back her head, she felt her husband take advantage of the circumstances to press his now burning lips against her exposed neck, softly progressing upwards to meet her lips again. A groan escaped him as she hooked her leg more firmly around him, at precisely the same time their merging of lips was realised. 

His hand moved up, caressing the curve of her shoulder, then lowered again, following her side, halting as he reached a breast, slightly sidetracked before he continued down and pulled her closer by the hip. 

Resting her hand in-between his shoulder blades, strands of hair brushing against her fingers, Celebrían repositioned herself and softly allowed her lips to wander lower, alternating between wet kisses and soft bites. Elrond's upper body heaved heavily against her, and their continuing motions had turned her respiration into an accumulation of short rapid breaths. 

His lips, close to her ear, mumbled quiet endearments, some barely audible or even overtaken entirely by a soft gasp. As she looked up from his chest, she found his eyes closed. A sudden urge made her go back, and he answered readily as she demanded his lips with near-bruising fervour. 

The climax of the blaze within her came suddenly, and arching her back, Celebrían felt herself being pulled even closer, her breasts pressing firmly against Elrond's chest. With a gasp she buried her hands in his hair and held him. He followed soon after, panting forcefully, his face pressed against her shoulder, his arms firmly secured around her. 

Rolling onto his back, Elrond chuckled breathlessly, feeling Celebrían's hair on his face, her hands on his body as she untangled herself from their intimate embrace. The warmth of her form against his as she finally came to rest beside him was familiar and secure, and he had to hold back from immediately giving in to the insisting impulse to close his eyes and enter the plains of dreams. 

Pulling up a thin sheet to cover them, Celebrían shifted comfortably in his arms and placed a hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall. She felt Elrond play with a strand of her hair and closed her eyes. 

'So all is well then, hervenn?'

She felt him nod slowly, and opened her eyes to watch him. 

'All is well.' Elrond simply replied. 

Celebrían rose slightly to press her lips against his, before settling back in his arms. 

Together they lay so for a while, but before long, both gave in, only to meet again, there where the air was warm, and the evening filled with a faint scent of trees and flowers, a place where summer lingered without end. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

melethril: female lover

Hennaid, meldir-nîn: Thank you, my friend

Navaer, hiril: Farewell, lady

Navaer, hîr-nîn: Farewell, my Lord

havo-am: sit up

hervenn: husband 

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	27. Politics and Tree Houses

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

For Alena, who was the first to introduce me to Nerdanel, and for Joan Milligan, who really is the person who gave me the lil Celebrimbor plotbunny. May the both of you continue to entertain us with excellent stories for a long time. :)

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

**Chapter Twenty-Six      Politics and Tree Houses**

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As he listened to Fingon's calm voice expounding on the proposed expansion plans for the City, Ereinion shuffled through his notes. It had been a tiring debate, there had been good arguments from all sides, but it was starting to drag on. Precise locations were now being focussed on by representatives, even though these should be discussion points only later on. It was somewhat exasperating. 

It was not so much lunch that was on the High Prince's mind, as where he was going to be taking it. 

When still a messenger for his father, he had not liked visiting the large white house in the Old City, the oldest part of Tirion. The fact that he now had his own hall to impress people with changed nothing. There was simply too much history about the place, he thought. 

As Fingon stepped back, voices rose, speaking both in Quenya and Sindarin, and all at the same time, trying to rise above each other. Fingolfin brought up a hand which seemed to quiet some of the voices, but not all. 

With a sigh, Ereinion rose, but instead of taking the speaker's place, he stepped down and casually wandered into the direction of the council seats. 

Gildor gave him an amused smile as he shifted to allow the High Prince enough room to be seated at the end of the bench. 

More voices quietened, as if they were straining to eavesdrop on the private negotiations that were to take place now. 

'You know that whichever way this vote goes, I shall be involved, yes?' Ereinion commented, kindly smiling to some council members that were quite directly looking at them from further away, not even attempting to hide it. Gildor nodded, as Finrod leant over and joined in. 

'No one would even think of building eastward, so, indeed, whether or not we shall expand in a southerly direction or a northerly, the western part of the City will be involved.'

Gildor raised an amused eyebrow.

'So, what is it you wish to propose, my Lord?' He grinned. 'We have heard little of you since you emerged after that unexpected vanishing some time ago.' 

Ereinion smiled. 

'I am quite ready to vote with you on expansion north, as are my father and, specifically, my grandfather, who, as you well know, holds responsibility over the northern part of Tirion. It seems the more logical decision. However, there is something I wish to include in the proposal. A point which my father has not taken into account in his present plans.' 

Finrod nodded, and gave his cousin a perceptive smile.

'You wish to have no expansion south of the river that flows from Tirion.'

Gildor seemed thoughtful for a moment, as Ereinion nodded.

'Precisely.'

Then, shortly drumming his fingers on the desk before him, Gildor shook his head, and glanced at Ereinion.

'This has something to do with Imloth?'

The High Prince adopted an innocent look. 

'But Gildor, mellon-iaur, you know as well as I do Imloth is not politically active...'

'Ha!' Gildor replied, sitting back and folding his arms, shaking his head. 'The day Imloth ceases to be politically active, is the day I retire and take up gardening.' He lowered his voice. 'Elrond Peredhil might be enjoying his grandchildren growing up, but each message to an old friend is one that is taken into account, and you know it, Ereinion. And the fact that your Halls are crawling with descendants of the House of Elrond... Well...'

'You have our vote here,' Finrod interrupted quietly. 'I shall make certain your father's proposal shall be worked out, with a supplement stating no building south of the river will be permitted.' He smiled. 'Keeping the road to Imloth a quiet one.' 

Bowing his head in thanks, Ereinion grinned.

'So, can two members of the High Council and a High Prince call an end to a gathering such as the one we find ourselves in?'

'I should certainly think so,' Finrod said, rising. He raised a hand and met Fingolfin's eyes. 

'My Lord, the Lords Gildor and Ereinion and myself ask for the conclusion of this assembly. In the morrow we shall bring forth a proposal which I believe shall be able to receive the blessing of the majority of the Council.'

Fingolfin nodded.

'May it be so, my Lord Finrod.'

Under an increasing murmur of voices, the council was brought to a close, and Ereinion rose from his position on the edge of the bench.

'Will you join us, Ereinion?' Finrod asked, 'For further discussion?'

At that moment Elrohir appeared at Ereinion's side, and the High Prince shook his head. 

'I fear I must decline, cousin. I am expected in the Old City this afternoon.'

'Ah yes, you always visit there this time of week, is that not so?' Gildor replied, while collecting some papers. 'Do tell, how does the young smith?'

'Quite well,' Ereinion replied. 'Though he seems preoccupied with other matters at this point. Which is not a bad thing, I suppose.' 

'And what would these _other matters_ be?' Gildor enquired with a glance at Finrod, who stood listening.

Hesitating for a second, Ereinion shook his head.

'Carpentry. But if you will excuse me, my Lords?' He turned and strode towards the doors of the entrance, but if he had thought he could make a quick enough exit, he had been mistaken. 

'Carpentry...' Gildor mused, only to raise his voice so it reached the High Prince's ears clearly. 'Was that not one of your favourite pastimes, Gil-galad?' 

Elrohir could not keep from smiling as Ereinion grinned upon leaving the Hall. 

They walked purposefully, knowing that if they in any way appeared as if they were not on their way somewhere, an observing lord would no doubt seize the opportunity, causing Ereinion to be even more delayed than he already was. 

'So, we have our votes?' Elrohir asked quietly, as they stepped out onto the streets and halted for a moment. 

'Yes, you can tell your brother we have them.'

'Very well, I shall. Give my regard to your hosts.' 

Saying a quick goodbye, both went on their separate ways. 

Ereinion walked through one of the parks in Tirion lost in thought, not paying attention to summer making its way into the City. He had more or less expected Gildor to catch on to the mention of carpentry. He had wanted to be reminded of it, and his last piece of work. 

He had never been one for jewels and metals, he simply did not posses the feel for crafting those. But due to his Noldorin heritage, he could pride himself on some aptitude in a certain trade. 

The wooden box had been quite nice, he admitted. He had not started it with Celebriníel in mind, but it had grown there, under his fingers. A result of his thoughts focussed on other things it had been, somehow translated into the wood. Once finished, her begetting day had been near, and he had asked several craftsmen to fabricate the matching writing set. It had been a good present, he agreed with himself. 

'And you were a fool to give her the jewel,' he mumbled. 

Passing the gate and entering into the flourishing garden that would lead up to the house that was his destination, he heard a shout and soon found a small child lunging himself at him. 

'I knew you would come!'

Smiling broadly, he caught the boy and lifted him in a confident movement. It always went like this.

'The council meeting ran late, or I would have been here earlier.'

Celebrimbor nodded. 

'Daernaneth told me. Why do councils always run late?' 

Ereinion shrugged, and shifted the child into a more comfortable position on his arm. 

'No one keeps to the agenda.' 

The boy wriggled a little in his arms until he managed to indicate his purpose. Grabbing a hold of the small tunic, Ereinion felt Celebrimbor clamber onto his shoulder. 

'Seated?' he asked, as the movement ceased. 

'Yes,' the boy beamed, and Ereinion felt him grab a hold of his collar to secure himself further. 'I want to show you something in the back garden.'

Not hungry enough to refuse the boy, Ereinion did as requested. It was only a moment later that Celebrimbor started shifting, indicating he wanted to be set down again. As soon as his feet reached the ground, he caught Ereinion's hand and pulled him towards a broad tree. 

'Could we build a tree-house?' 

The High Prince stood very silently for a moment, head raised, his eyes focussed on the branches above. It was a good tree for this purpose, it would not take much effort to build in it. And it would be a nice challenge. 

Smiling amusedly, he looked aside, where he found the boy eyeing him curiously. 

'Will you help?'

Ereinion nodded. 

'I will.'

Celebrimbor looked at the tree a moment, then his eyes began to glimmer.

'Can we start right away?'

Walking around the tree, carefully making some silent calculations, Ereinion smiled.

'We would have to get wood, and we would need plans. And permission, I do not think your Daernaneth will like it if we simply start wreaking havoc in her tree.' 

Running around the tree, Celebrimbor watched Ereinion intently.  

'Oh, please? Can we ask her right now?'

With a laugh, Ereinion turned towards the house.

'In a while, be patient.'

Slightly disappointed, Celebrimbor sighed. 

'I have been waiting to ask you since last week.' 

Biting his lips thoughtfully a moment, Ereinion looked down at him. 

'I suppose that if we get permission, we could start clearing branches. Perhaps see what kinds of wood we can obtain.'

Immediately beaming once more, the elfling enthusiastically nodded his consent and extended a hand, which elicited another chuckle from the High Prince, as he accepted it. Celebrimbor grinned. 

'Let us go ask Daernaneth.' 

Allowing himself be dragged inside, Ereinion could not help being amused for a moment. 

'I came to have lunch, you will allow me to have lunch, Celebrimbor?'

'Yeees, later.'

Once inside the house, they did not have to search long before they found Nerdanel. 

Emerging from a neighbouring room, she smiled as Celebrimbor ran towards her. Whereas he had flung himself into Ereinion's arms before, he was much more patient with his grandmother, catching her hand instead. 

'Daernaneth! Ereinion says he will help, but we need permission because we cannot simply start building in your tree.' 

She glanced at Ereinion, who gave her a reassuring nod. 

'Then I suppose I shall have to allow it, laito. Providing you will not cause Ereinion to fall out of a tree.' 

Almost unnoticeably, she led the boy into the dining room, where the table was already set. 

'Ereinion would not fall out of a tree,' Celebrimbor stated matter-of-factly, before chattering on about wood, and explaining why he would have to be allowed to spend the night in the tree house as soon as it was finished. 

The High Prince folded his hands behind his back and followed. 

The room was not particularly large, and yet Ereinion always had an image of seven sons seated around the table, with Nerdanel at one end, and Fëanor at the other. It was a strange image, devised by his own imagination alone, but he never quite managed to shake it. It was not the same with Formenos. There, it seemed, no memories were allowed to linger, and nothing indicated that it had been there that the Silmarils had been taken from their vaults, and that Finwë was slain before its doors. But here... here it seemed presences lingered around every corner. If Nerdanel had learned to live with them, Celebrimbor did not seem to notice. 

The three of them sat down at the table and started the informal lunch that had become a weekly habit. It was only at moments like these that Ereinion saw other members of the household; there were some servants, and Mahtan had even joined them during his first visits. 

Evidently the great-grandfather's supervision was no longer necessary; the three of them had been left to their own devises after the third visit. 

'And how do the High Lords of Tirion these days?' Nerdanel asked Ereinion, as she took a sip of wine. 

He smiled; somehow it was hard to imagine the lady sitting beside him at the head of the table had seen more of history than his own grandfather had. She had seen them act as they were now for many years. _Too long to be actually interested in it?_ he wondered. 

'They seem to find enough matters to keep themselves busy with,' he replied. 'Much the same as always, I suspect.'

She smiled. 

'Your grandmother comes here often. Not as often as in the past, but I imagine there is more that occupies her days than before.'

'Yes, most likely,' he nodded. Putting down his fork, he looked at Nerdanel. 'I meant to ask before, but never quite did, for some reason... You have had your grandson here from the very beginning? When he returned?'

Setting her glass down and folding her hands, Nerdanel nodded. 

'It was not my idea to keep his return a secret, I will have you know that.'

Shaking his head, Ereinion smiled. 

'In hindsight, it was not a poor decision.'

Looking at Celebrimbor for a moment, who smiled at her comfortingly, Nerdanel sat back, the food on her plate forgotten.

'Finarfin told me at once, for that I am very grateful. If there was talk of revealing it to others, they never mentioned it to me. I simply did not speak of it, the announcement was not mine to make, and I had no desire to make it to begin with. I had my grandson, and that was all that mattered to me.' 

As her gaze rested on the boy again, and she noticed he had finished his lunch, rising, she looked at Ereinion. 

'Perhaps we could take a walk in the garden.' She turned to Celebrimbor. 'You can explain to me what your plans are.' 

Once outside, she listened intently to the boy's stream of words, but after a while he began to wander off as they walked the gardens. Nerdanel let him, and caught Ereinion's arm. 

'I do not know what he understands, sometimes.'

Ereinion watched Celebrimbor rest a small hand against the trunk of a tree, looking up at the branches. 

'If he did what I did, at that age,' he said, 'he will ignore the things he does not understand.'

They were both silent then, watching Celebrimbor, who seemed to occupy himself with chasing a frog through the grass. A triumphant cry sounded, and he rose, only to have the animal escape from his grasp and land safely a little further away. The pursuit was continued. 

'You were not happy, when you first heard he had returned, were you?' Nerdanel asked suddenly. Not angry, not accusing, she was simply posing him a straightforward question. Ereinion thought it deserved an honest reply.

'I was not. Somehow I feared he would bring back memories.' 

She looked at her grandson, running through the grass. 

'An entirely selfish reason, then?'

With a nod, Ereinion halted, giving her an apologetic look.  

'Yes. But I have a selfish reason to appreciate his return as well.'

'You have?' Nerdanel enquired, her eyes suddenly glimmering. 

Ereinion smiled. 

'I have hopes they will start calling him the elfling now, and release me from the nickname.'

She laughed, a pleasant laugh.

'I remember that, I do. I imagine it is a rather inconvenient nickname, in Council Meetings.' Then she turned more serious. 'He is an elfling, truly. So small, inexperienced. I fear for what lies in his future.'

The two adults stood watching the elf-child, who scrambled around the garden, oblivious as to what was likely to lie in his future.  

'You know what always struck me?' she whispered, her eyes still locked on Celebrimbor, but her thoughts somewhere else. 'The first reports we received from what occurred in Eregion... I shall always remember one line, it seems carved into my mind. "And Celebrimbor withstood Sauron on the steps of the great door of the Mírdain..."' She finally tore away from her stare and looked at Ereinion. 

He remembered the line, and he understood why it had touched her so, because it had touched him too, at the time. Had it been Elrond to speak those words to him? Or a messenger? Or had it merely been a quote from an obscure passage in a report he had afterwards read? He observed questioning eyes, and forced himself to cease wandering off on paths of unimportant contemplation. 

'I promise you, I will be there, when he needs someone who can explain it to him,' he finally declared. There was nothing he could further say, or offer. 

'For now, I am very grateful you are here to build this tree house with him.' She looked as if caught up in memories again, but these seemed more pleasant; her face lit up in a smile. 'Much like his grandfather he is,' she finally stated. 

Imagining Fëanor chasing frogs seemed a strange thing to Ereinion, but he understood the gist of Nerdanel's remark. 

'It always seemed to me he had his grandmother's mood, though,' he smiled. 

After an initial chuckle, Nerdanel sighed quietly. 'Do you ever think...' she shook her head. 'I feel awkward asking this of you, for you probably have as much knowledge of such things as I do.'

He looked at her. 

'Celebrimbor is the first, my Lady Nerdanel. But I do not believe he is the last.' 

Releasing his arm, and taking some quick steps forward, Nerdanel moved away from him, and Ereinion stayed as he was.  

'Do you know, I am glad he is building tree houses. If only so it will keep him from jewels a while longer.'

Slowly nearing her, Ereinion narrowed his eyes against the afternoon sun. 

'Perhaps he shall not turn to them at all.'

Nerdanel shook her head ruefully. 

'In this house? I have done all I could to keep him away from my father's workshop.' She sighed. 'No, Ereinion, he will do what he has always done. He will do what my father does, what I do, and what his grandfather always did. There is nothing you nor I nor anyone can do against it.'

Both were silent as Ereinion considered the notion. It seemed unfair that blood alone could decide on destiny. Nerdanel observed his indecision. 

'You do not trust the old lady of Tirion?' she smiled, like a mother smiles secretly at her children's waywardness. 

Ereinion decided he was unable to make up his mind. Instead he smiled.  

'Your years are more than mine, my Lady, and you have infinitely more experience in all matters than I do. I will trust the judgement of the Wise Lady of Tirion.'

She chuckled and shook her head.

'So like your mother, you are, truly.'

Taking his arm again, they continued their walk, following Celebrimbor, who had already gone on before them. 

--~~*~~--

Tired but content, Ereinion dropped into bed, more than ready to give in to sleep, ignoring the book he had intended to peruse earlier. Smiling, he thought back to this afternoon, when he had helped Celebrimbor lay the finishing touch to the tree house. For some time now, they had spent a day a week building it, and now it had finally been completed. 

He allowed himself to drift off then, and suddenly smiled, picking up something he had not expected. 

A whisper, just a quiet whisper. It could have been simply the wind in the trees, heard through the open window, or rustling through some papers on his desk. But he knew it for what it truly was; a whisper, from the lips of his beloved. 

He was very well aware; these things are always more obvious to the receiving party than they are to others, and in this aspect a whisper between lovers was surely no different. But was that not the beautiful detail?  

So close, she was, and yet so far away, such a thing of true mystery, this soft murmur, only of importance to him. He could not tell, precisely, what the words were that had been carried to him. Perhaps only their essence mattered. And the essence changed with his needs.

It could simply have started out as 'I love thee,' and he thought it had. 

From there, it had all the freedom to change into something different, like 'Come to me,' or a more uncomplicated 'Goodnight.'

Or to transform into a caress, pure and simple, a kiss on his face, fingers meeting his lips, an imagined warmth that had started as a murmur from somewhere else. 

Thinking of it had made him relax further, more so than was usual, and he had lowered the unconscious protection he had taught himself to keep up at all times. He settled back deeper into the pillows, and simply gave in to the comfortable warmth the sheets provided. 

And then it was there, at once, pouncing upon him from the shadows where it had been lurking for years now, not able to penetrate his watchful defence. It launched itself at him, and there was no way he could escape. 

It was quiet. Too quiet. And he stood there. Just stood there, even if every vein in his body urged him to move, anywhere, if only it was away from there. He wanted to. For an instant he even thought he could make it, if he ran fast enough, he would escape the dream, and could simply awaken, safe. 

But his mind was drawn to the object in his hand. 

He turned his gaze from the empty plain before him to discover the feel of something familiar.

As if it were a natural reaction, he fastened his grip around it, the metal cold against the slightly warmer palm of his hand. 

_Aeglos..._

Suddenly he became aware of the smell around him, as if it had only now registered in his mind. The stench of death. And yet he was there alone. 

Slowly, it was creeping up on him, little by little, in its infinitely slow pace. He knew what was coming, and he could not run. There was nowhere to go, and his legs seemed unwilling to take him. 

He moaned in his sleep, but he could not wake, and there was no one there to attempt to rouse him from this nightmare. And yet he was aware this was a dream. But he could not shake it, there was no way... 

With a shiver he noticed the wind had picked up, and the sound of sand being blown over the harsh, solid ground reached his ears. 

Blood had been spent here, much blood. His own, that of friends, of complete strangers, of Men, of Elves, of Orcs. In blood, they were all equal. 

Optimistically, he thought that perhaps the battle had been fought already, or that his dream had brought him to a time when fighting was not taking place here. He hoped fervently, but in the end, it was not so. 

In the end, there was battle.

It came suddenly, and it was painful, because all his bones hurt, and he felt himself arch his back against a painful blow he recalled receiving moments before. Blood and dirt splattered against his face, his armour. 

Not able to lift his arm, it seemed as if somehow Aeglos was too heavy, or he himself too tired. It made a soft whimper escape his lips. This was what it had come down to. He had become a meagre shadow of himself, waiting for his own inevitable death, a thing that would come as surely as it had so many times before. 

Only once had it been in earnest, but from that time, it had always been there, looming just out of sight. It had influenced everything, tainted all, from his earliest memories onward. 

There was no need to look up and see the Darkness come. It was there, as unwavering as always. It had never faltered before him, as it had before Isildur. He had never had a chance against Gorthaur and because of that, he was doomed to see the same scene repeat itself, again and again, with no possibility of changing the outcome. 

It was written, and so it had to be done. 

He gathered all the strength in his trembling limbs and threw himself against the shadowy figure opposite him, as he had done then, knowing he would fail, fail as he had done countless times before. 

The pain never dulled. The only difference was he now knew that it would come, and what he could expect. 

Waking, tears in his eyes, the smell of Dagorlad still in his nostrils, he sat up, and stumbled out of bed, nauseous and disorientated. 

--~~*~~--

Not taking the time to sit up first, Celebriníel fell out of bed and grabbed some garments, dressing quickly. As she sped out of the chamber, she considered simply going to the stables to saddle a horse and ride out. It was in line with the rest of her impetuous actions, she realised. Perhaps it was wiser not to do _everything_ impulsively. 

Her parents were not going to be happy with her leaving without telling anyone, especially not in the middle of the night, and if she went unaccompanied, it would almost certainly make it worse. 

For all she knew, there was nothing wrong with Ereinion, and this had simply been a nightmare of hers, unconnected to him. 

Crossing the hallway, she noticed some light shining from underneath a door. Shaking her head, she stepped towards it and gave a soft knock on the wood. 

'Glorfindel?' she went on to call softly, and when the door opened, she saw his eyes immediately take in she was dressed to ride. And no doubt the flush on her face as well. He looked at her inquisitively. 

'Celebriníel?'

She made certain the hallway was empty before continuing in a hushed tone.

'I must go to Tirion.'

The Elf-lord raised a surprised eyebrow.

'And why, precisely, would you wish to go to Tirion? At this late hour?'

'I cannot tell you,' she said apologetically. 'But I ask you to accompany me.'

Glorfindel shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. 

'Even I need a reason to ride out at this hour. Can this not wait till morning?'

Swallowing, she shook her head. 

'If you do not wish to come with me, I shall go alone.'

'Your father would not appreciate it if I took you,' he stated bluntly.

Meeting his gaze, Celebriníel threw him a questioning look. 

'Would he appreciate it if you let me go by myself?'

It was a good point, Glorfindel thought. He would have to bring it up when defending his actions to Elrond later. Taking a deep breath, he released it slowly, before looking at her.

'It is not a good idea.'

'I caused something, and must set it right.'

'This is to do with Ereinion? Celebriníel, he can take care of himself very...'

Glorfindel watched her turn and enter the hallway again, going into the direction of the stables. 

Indecisively, he stood in the doorway for a moment, then muttered quietly to himself and stepped back into his room. He quickly changed his tunic, assembled some small items, wondering how long Celebriníel was planning for this visit to last. 

Finally blowing out the candles, he pulled the door shut and made his way down to the stables, wondering if he had entirely lost his mind, and hoping that if he had, it was merely a temporary thing. 

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laito: (Quenya) youth 

_And Celebrimbor withstood Sauron on the steps of the great door of the Mírdain..._ : paraphrased from J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales

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	28. Reasons

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Yes, finally, I know, I know. *sends chocolate elfies with apologies to everyone*  
Many thanks go to kalurien and Rose Red for beta/proofreading. I'd be lost without them.  
For Rose Red, because of the nicely wrapped plotbunnies and a lovely story "Legacy"  (and the link probably won't show up, darnit), story ID 1230558, in any case.    
  

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**Chapter Twenty-Seven    Reasons**

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Pulling his cloak closer around him, Ereinion sat down on the steps, realising too late how wet the stone had become during the damp night. Nevertheless, he stayed where he was. He would take this little inconvenience gladly.

The garden lay before him, dark green and awakening in the early morning. Blankly, he stared at the tree containing the now completed tree house he and Celebrimbor had built. His thoughts were not with the weeks he had spent here, building, but rather on another tree, and the strange urge which had possessed him to jump to that tree, knowing the depth beneath, but also knowing Celebriníel had been somewhere below. He remembered it well. 

Such an urge had been his grandfather's doom, taking Morgoth on himself.

And it had been part of his own first doom, though to a lesser extent, against a lesser darkness. He had known, beforehand, that he would not return from Mordor. And yet he went. Stayed there, on that damned plain, for all that time. 

He did not feel well, but the morning cold made it better, fresh air against his face.

What had it been that had made him return from the Halls? What had it been that had made Celebrimbor decide to return? If this, these nightmares, lay in Celebrimbor's future as well, what was he to tell the boy? They will never go away? At a point in time when he probably did not even understand the gist of what was in the dreams? 

They would go away, he recalled his grandfather telling him. 

But there was no exact point in time when this would happen. For all anyone knew these nightmares would still plague him after a thousand mortal years had passed. And his were much less grim than Celebrimbor's were likely to be. 

He placed an elbow on his knee and rested his head in his hand. 

It was true, he had not been troubled with these nightmares for many years. As soon as he had learned how to keep them away, by mental exertion, they had only come sporadically, on those rare occasions when he forgot to protect himself. 

_You can make all things so very difficult, especially for yourself, Ereinion._

And then, unexpectedly, there were Anar's rays, bright and beautiful, streaming onto his face, reflecting in thousands of watery dewdrops on leaves and blades of grass. Almost as if it was necessary to remind him of the splendour all around. 

He heard the door behind him open, shortly before a hand was rested on his shoulder. Nerdanel looked down at him.

'Are you well?'

He nodded. 

'Yes, yes I am.'

She glanced at his face a while longer, then sat down beside him, her skirts pooling around her. 

'I believe you had finished the tree house?'

An almost apologetic smile appeared on Ereinion's face. 

'My sleep was troubled. I took a walk as to collect my thoughts and found myself here.'

Nerdanel placed an entreating hand on his arm. 

'You should speak with your mother of this. She has gone through the same with your father.'

Ereinion thoughtfully shook his head. 

'My mother... since I last spoke to her in earnest, much has changed in my life.'

'And you can not speak to her of those changes?'

Ereinion made an affirming gesture. 

'Not yet.' Looking at her frown, he sighed and looked away, plucking at the knee of his trousers. 'For as long as I have been able to guard my mind, it did not matter, the images were there, as they would be with any other person, not threatening, just... memories. But when I accidentally lower this defence, all becomes so much darker, much more vivid. And the fact that...' He shook his head, feeling miserable. 'This could all very well have happened because of the time I spent with Celebrimbor. But somehow there was something, this night, just before it happened. It causes me to fear I shall have to choose between love and keeping these dreams away, and that I cannot have both.' 

Both were silent for a while, their thoughts travelling elsewhere. 

'I have seen them all return,' Nerdanel finally said. 'And all of them had these moments. They did conquer them, Ereinion, and I do not believe any of them had to go without love to do so.'

The High Prince brought his hand to his head. 

'Yes, this is one of the factors which I constantly attempt to keep in mind.'

'If Celebrimbor...' Nerdanel began, but she seemed to change her mind mid-sentence. Looking at the Elf-lord, she continued in an enquiring tone. 'Why did you come here? Is this not the last place where you would want to be?'

Waving his hand a little, Ereinion shook his head again.

'I do not know.'

He sighed. That seemed to be the essence of everything, at the moment; he simply did not know. And a very disconcerting feeling it was. 

The door behind them opened with a soft creak, and an Elf stepped out, hesitating somewhat before addressing Nerdanel, who turned at once. 

'A visitor, my Lady. Someone calling for the Lord Ereinion.'

'Thank you, Tuaryon,' she replied, before casting a questioning look at Ereinion, who had glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his name. It seemed too early for anyone to have noticed his absence. Too early for any kind of customary visitors as well. 

'Sometimes my duties simply do not leave me alone...' he sighed, rising. 

A moment later he was forced to swallow any other words he had been about to utter. 

Slipping past the Elf who had announced her, pushing the door open further, Celebriníel stepped onto the terrace. 

There was a distinct flush to be found on her cheeks, and her hair was loose in such a way that there could be no doubt of the wind having played through it while she had ridden here. He wanted to pronounce her name, wanted to ask her casually how she was, and why she was here, but he found he could not. He simply stood there, one foot placed on a higher step than the other, confronted with her questioning eyes.

Before he realised it, arms were around his neck, and he was returning her embrace, not understanding how she could be here, but glad for it nevertheless. 

'I am sorry,' came her whisper near his ear. 

'Do not be,' he returned, burying his face against her shoulder. 'It was not your fault.'

He pushed away the melancholy that had previously preoccupied him, and concentrated on her physical presence, unexpectedly so close. 

She smelled of the wind, of travel, of forests, of everything he missed while he resided in Tirion. And merely feeling her body pressed against him made all his worries vanish, so that nothing mattered but this, here, now.  

Neither of them heard Nerdanel retreat, but when they slowly disentangled themselves, she had gone. 

Celebriníel looked at him and started a waterfall of words. 

'I know I said to you I would not come. That we would not meet for a year. But I had to, I should not have come, I am aware of that, but I could not...'

With a small smile, and a shushing sound, Ereinion brought his hand up to her lips, only to have her embrace him again.

'Coming here seems so silly now,' she spoke softly against his shoulder. 

'Does it help if I say I do not regret it?' he whispered back. 'I am glad you came.' 

Withdrawing, she smiled. 

'That does help.'

Ereinion's eyes twinkled almost indiscernibly. 'But you do risk making yourself a topic of discussion now.'

'And what will they say about me, here in Tirion?' she said with a smile, making it clear the matter was of little importance to her.

'That you have inherited your father's Maiar blood, and your mother's face,' he grinned. 

Celebriníel gave the Elf-lord a playful poke between the ribs. 

'I shall tell my mother you said that.'

'Do,' he chuckled, before continuing. 'And after that, they will wonder how I know you, and others will explain that I have spent much of my time at Imloth. And subsequently they will nod and say it is no wonder I care for you as much as I do.'

She looked up at him a moment, then blushed and averted her gaze. 

'They would guess?'

Tilting her head with his hand and meeting her eyes, he smiled.

'It will not be much of a guess if you keep blushing like that.'

Silent for a few moments, Celebriníel finally shook her head. 

'I must return to Imloth again shortly.'

Ereinion frowned. 

'Why? I assume that you would be permitted to spend the night in Tirion if it was the Great Library you were to... Oh.' His voice trailed off as he read the situation from her face. 'At least you have spoken with your mother?'  
Celebriníel shook her head.  
'The departure was rather... abrupt.'  
'You must send a message, then.'  
She nodded. 

Slowly, concern spread across Ereinion's face.

'You did not ride here alone?'

In a burst of relieved laughter, she shook her head.

'Glorfindel came with me.'

'He is here?'

'Waiting inside, I trust.'

Keeping her hand in his, Ereinion folded her arm under his. 

'We shall go to your brother's house, and send Elernil to Imloth. And then some refreshments will be in order, for I do not believe you have taken the time to breakfast. After that, I shall escort you back to your father's house.' 

'You have meetings today, I believe?' Celebriníel said softly.

'I would not have gone,' Ereinion stated. 'I will not now.' Pensively he looked down at her. 'We... should speak to your parents.'

Nodding quietly, Celebriníel stared at her feet. 

'I think you are right.' She looked up. 'But perhaps we could wait a day. I do not believe my brother would mind if I stay with him.' 

Ereinion shook his head with a smile. 

'Briníel,' he began, stepping closer and moving some hair behind one of her ears. 'I would enjoy it if you would stay in Tirion longer, but do not stay because you fear the reaction of your parents.'

Elrond's permission, or rather any objection he might have, was foremost on her mind, much as it was on his. He needed to quieten his own apprehension about the matter as much as hers. 

'Even if it surprises him, if he does not approve, I will be there, with you, for as long as is asked of me,' he added. 'I shall not go anywhere, I will not leave your side. We can wait.' He felt her bury her face against his shoulder and placed an arm around her, softly chuckling. 'If it is required, I shall court you as long as your father deems fit.'

Glorfindel pensively fingered the sleeves of his tunic as he waited, seated in a comfortable chair in the hallway of Nerdanel's house. He had been offered refreshments not long ago, but had declined. No doubt it would be indigestible, and lie in his stomach like a stone. 

Not only was he now risking the wrath of Elrond, but he realised there was also Ereinion to consider. The High Prince might not be very happy with the young girl suddenly showing up where everyone could see her, and could see him. Things would be looked at with different eyes here in Tirion; much more scrutinising eyes. 

First, after being informed Ereinion was not home, he and Celebriníel had ridden to Elrohir's house, close by. There, Elrohir, only just awoken, had indicated several places where the High Prince could be, one of the locations mentioned being Nerdanel's house. Seemingly the best guess, they had gone there first, and found the Elf-lord. But not without invading more people's lives than could ever have been their intention, he thought. 

Originally only Ereinion, then Elrohir and his family, and now Nerdanel also... All this because he had allowed Celebriníel to drag him along, no doubt with a whole range of consequences back home to follow. 

Finally, the garden doors opened, and Celebriníel, Ereinion by her side, re-entered the house. 

With a soft sigh of relief, Glorfindel noticed their hands linked together securely, fingers entwined, shoulders and arms brushing against each other. 

_At least I do not have to worry about Ereinion..._

--~~*~~--

Almarinde curiously caught the dark braid that hung just within her reach. Her eyes flashed up to the owner, but there came no reply, no warning, no larger fingers wrenching the hair from her smaller ones. 

With a small sound of amusement, she stretched her arm out to her sister. 

Almariel sat quietly, thumb in her mouth, fingering her ear. 

Large eyes met her sister's and she smiled acquiescingly. 

Yes, she knew Daeradar was preoccupied, but no, that was no reason to take advantage of the situation. 

The eldest of the two girls pouted and demonstratively began chewing on the braid. The younger made a movement which could almost be considered a shrug, and cuddled closer to her grandfather's chest. 

Absently, Elrond pulled her closer. 

'Dadar!' 

The sudden volume of the exclamation made both Elrond and Almariel look at Almarinde, who grinned broadly due to their instantaneous attention. 

Waving a hand in the air, she trampled her feet a little and looked up questioningly. 'Briníel?' 

'I do not know where she is, my sweet,' Elrond answered. He paused, before continuing in a whisper which was more to himself than to the small girl. 'I suspect Briníel is in Tirion.'

Frowning, Almarinde looked at her feet. 

Resting a little hand on his arm, Almariel looked up at her grandfather and smiled. Smiling as well, Elrond kissed her on the head and nodded. 

'Yes, I worry for naught.'

Just outside, there sounded footsteps, and three pairs of eyes focussed expectantly on the entrance, at Elladan, who it was that entered. He met his father's hopeful look. 

'As you already know, two horses are gone from the stables, Glorfindel's and Celebriníel's. There is no note in either his or her room though. Unless Naneth has found anything.'

'And where is your mother?' Elrond replied brusquely, attempting to hide his disappointment. 

'Right here,' Celebrían answered as she entered the chamber, gazing at some papers in her hand. 

Handing Almarinde to Elladan, and settling Almariel on his arm, Elrond rose from the chair he had been seated in. 

'Well?'

Allowing a deep sigh to escape her lips, Celebrían met Elrond's gaze. 

'I found nothing.' 

As Elrond closed his eyes and tried to collect his thoughts, his granddaughter rested her head against his shoulder and took a loose hold of his tunic, staying as quiet as she could, suspecting there was nothing else she could do to comfort her grandfather. 

Taking two steps at a time, Elernil ascended the stairs to the house, rubbing his hands together to make his fingers feel slightly warmer. The weather was fine, it was only on the open road that the wind was so much more raw and cold. Luckily the sun did its best to counter any chill the light wind could bring. 

The main hall, when he entered it, was surprisingly empty, but he did not give it a second thought; most likely the household was assembled together either in his grandfather's or grandmother's chambers. 

He whistled as he stepped into the library, and took yet another flight of steps to reach a higher floor. From there he noticed the door to his grandfather's study was open, the rooms beyond empty of occupation. Turning on his heel he made for his grandmother's chambers directly opposite the hall, finding the door equally wide open. He immediately distinguished Erestor's quiet voice, evidently attempting to soothe a certain state of affairs. Halting in the doorway, the young Elf oversaw the room. 

'There is no prudence in riding off anywhere in haste, and you are well aware of it,' Erestor added to his earlier words, while sitting on the armrest of an empty chair. Elladan stood nearby, his eldest daughter on his arm. 

Elernil watched his grandfather standing by the window, his back toward the rest of the chamber, but clearly the one being addressed. He saw his youngest cousin looking over her grandfather's shoulder, meeting his eyes directly. 

With a gurgle she stretched out a hand and smiled at him, at which moment his grandfather turned, supposedly to reply to Erestor, but remaining quite silent at the sight of him. 

His grandmother, standing together with Aurehen, smiled warmly. 

'Elernil, you must have ridden from Tirion quite early, to have arrived here at this time of day.'

Smiling, he caught the hand she extended to him. 

'I was lifted from my bed, and assigned with bringing you word of Celebriníel's presence in Tirion as quick as possible.' 

An almost unnoticeable sigh went through the room, but Elrond's voice cut through it, clear and serious. 

'And who sent you?'

'Celebriníel herself,' Elernil smiled, 'though I believe Ereinion insisted on it.'

'Did she say when she was to return?' Celebrían asked, before Elrond had a chance to continue his interrogation. 

'I had to assure you she would return tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. I believe my parents and Ereinion intend to accompany her, and I was told to stay here until then, instead of returning to the city.'

Celebrían moved her hand to his shoulder. 

'Very well.' She narrowed her eyes. 'How much of a breakfast were you able to have before riding out?'

'A small one,' Elernil admitted with a grin. 

'I have no doubt Aurehen will see to it you receive something to sustain you until noon,' Celebrían nodded, while looking back at the Elf-lady beside her, who answered with a complying smile. 'Possibly there are others who wish to do the same,' she added. 

Elladan laughed and walked over to his father, holding out an arm for his other daughter. 

'Yes, indeed, for most of us did not get much of a breakfast either.'

As Elladan crossed the room and joined Elernil and Aurehen, Elrond turned to the window again. 

Erestor gave Celebrían a questioning look, but she replied with a short shake of the head, which made him rise and join the others in departing. The door closed behind him with a discernable click. 

Listening to the voices outside moving away and out of hearing range, Celebrían thought the silence in the room became yet more palpable. With Elrond already on tenterhooks, her grandson's approach in bringing them this news might had not been the best approach she could think of. It was not difficult to guess how Elrond would interpret it. 

'El-nîn?' she asked carefully, leaning back against her desk, folding her arms. 

'I do not wish to speak of this.' Elrond remained facing the window. 

'Well, either you speak of it, or you will go and scowl someplace where I cannot see you,' Celebrían remarked. 'I understand your concern, but truly, Glorfindel went with her, we know where she is; it is not as if she has disappeared.' 

Facing her with dark eyes, Elrond shook his head in disbelief. 

'Our daughter has left in the middle of the night, with no indication as to what her destination was. She is now in Tirion. She is _not_ there to visit the Great Library. I have every reason to be worried.' 

'Oh, be logical, Elrond.' Celebrían crossed the chamber to join him. 'Even if she has gone there solely to see Ereinion, he will not suddenly elope with her.'

'Hmm.' Elrond shrugged, staring out of the window yet again. 

Coming up next to him, Celebrían let out a sigh. 

'At this moment, he will treat her as what she is first and foremost.' She caught Elrond's hand. 'His best friend's daughter. You know how he is.' 

His gaze still locked on something outside, Elrond did not move. 

'Indeed, I know very well how he is. That should indicate I am also thoroughly aware of how inconsistent he can be.' 

Letting his hand slip from hers, Celebrían forced him to meet her eyes. 

'You do not mean that.' 

Elrond tilted his head, meeting her gaze coldly. 

'I do not? Even though I have seen those inconsistencies, have heard of his qualms, his doubts in himself, his very being? It is true he is a great leader of people, and that he would do everything in his power to serve what he conceives as a good cause, but as a person? There are things I cannot hold against him as his friend, but those are the same matters I do not wish to see as traits of my daughter's husband.' 

'Such as?' 

He seemed to chuckle in exasperation. 

'If you had not noticed, he has not exactly proven any consistency in the few relationships he has had. The fact that the whole affair between him and Alian is still beyond anyone's understanding only underlines this.' 

'You are being as inconsistent as you claim he is, even in a different manner,' Celebrían commented dryly. 'Not long ago, you said that if Celebriníel loved him, it was all that mattered. In Middle-earth, you would stare down anyone who would speak his name with what you considered to be too little respect. I know you are worried, but...' 

'He sends my own grandson to bring this news!' Elrond exclaimed, moving away from the window and towards the centre of the room. 'He sends Elernil to communicate Celebriníel is in Tirion. Staying with him.' 

'There was no such thing in the communication, and you know it,' Celebrían replied, attempting to keep her irritation from taking over. Elrond seemed to ignore her. 

'Her brother is in Tirion. Why is he not...'

'Undoubtedly Celebriníel is staying with Elrohir,' Celebrían replied immediately. 'It seems logical the message was relayed via Elernil; you cannot possibly draw any conclusions from that.'  

Turning, Elrond looked at her intently. 

'She did not go to Tirion to visit Elrohir. I do not think she is staying with Elrohir.' 

'You seem to have come to that conclusion, but I have not,' Celebrían said, shaking her head. 

'That is apparent,' he replied, giving her a bitter stare. 

Celebrían was astounded. She understood Elrond's concern, and that he needed a way to expel his frustration. But she did not think she deserved this tone. And no one deserved to be the victim of premature assumptions.

'I will not let you do this, Elrond.'

Raising an eyebrow, the Elf-lord seemed stunned. 

'_Let me do this_? What absurdness do you speak of?'

'Ereinion does not deserve this. And you know it.'

'I should think,' Elrond started reprovingly, 'that in this matter, it would not be Ereinion you should be worrying...'

'I think my daughter can take very good care of herself,' Celebrían snapped back. 'Her father might want her to remain his little girl for the entire Fourth Age, meanwhile failing to recognise she has grown up to be a sensible and intelligent young lady, but I for one would allow her to be happy. I had to wait for you, and at the time, that seemed appropriate. But perhaps you have forgotten that it is custom among our people to marry young... Cannot, for once, a member of our family abide by this?'

Looking up from the ornate floor, Elrond's eyes were even darker than before, if possible.  

'I suggest we cease this conversation. It seems moot, at this point,' he remarked, his voice constrained. 'I do not believe you are quite yourself.' Then he prepared to turn, but Celebrían plainly refused to allow it.

In Middle-earth, this course of action had worked to end conversations with Dwarves, or Men, even Elves, she knew, but here, on Aman, with her, it would not. She would not permit him to simply turn away and cease to participate. 

Clenching her hands into fists, she locked stares with her husband. 

'Turn from me now, Elrond Peredhil, and you shall find your bed very cold...' 

The words startled them both, perhaps because it was the first time such words were spoken without even the slightest trace of jesting. Elrond remained where he was, half turned. 

'I...' he started, then grew silent, bowing his head and closing his eyes. 

Staring at him, Celebrían shook her head. 

'Why? Why does it have to be like this?' 

Bringing a hand to his temple, as if a great ache had suddenly manifested itself there, he smiled weakly. 

'Because it seems to be all I can do at this time.' 

Celebrían shook her head and averted her gaze, before crossing the chamber and stepping onto the balcony, where she sat down and rested back into the cushions of a bench, closing her eyes. Inside, she could hear Elrond pacing, but she paid it no heed, allowing herself to be swept away, keeping her thoughts to herself. 

When she opened her eyes again, the pacing had gone, and she could say with more certainty than anything else that her chambers were empty, mirroring an emptiness within her, almost unbearable. 

Closing her eyes, she tried to hold back the tears which were burning behind her eyelids. 

In the end, it was of no use. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Tuaryon: Quenya 'turo' (lord) and 'aryon' (heir)

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	29. Regrets

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

I upped the rating (who am I kidding here anyway?). I should have done that a long time ago. ;)

For my bestest pal, Kalurien. *bows*

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**Chapter Twenty-Eight     Regrets******

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That evening, those in the house who had not already noticed the tension between Elrond and Celebrían were left no doubt of it now. Neither of the two had left their chambers, and the opposite doors, which normally stood wide open, were now firmly shut, and remained so. Erestor, together with Elladan, Aurehen, the twin girls, and Elernil, took the evening meal in silence, both ends of the table empty of their usual occupants. 

'The fault lies not with you, Elernil,' Erestor finally remarked, as he had watched the young Elf sit subdued for the larger part of the meal. 'You were delivering a message, do not let it worry you.'

'This is easier said than done,' Elernil remarked, moving his food across the plate, having lost his appetite long before. 

Elladan sank back in his chair. 

'They will resolve this before long, and we shall all be laughing about it.'

Elernil nodded, but he did not seem entirely certain of his uncle's words. 

'I hope so.'

'Your Daeradar and Daernaneth are both merely worried, and they just need some time to compose themselves.' Aurehen affirmed, while attempting to stop Almarinde from throwing her food through the air. 'Perhaps if Briníel had left a note of some sort, or had informed someone, all would have been better.'

'Would it not be a good idea to send someone to warn Celebriníel?' Elernil offered. 

Throwing a questioning look in Erestor's direction, Elladan stayed silent, while Erestor seemed to consider the notion. 

'I do not know whether this would make matters better or worse, truth be told,' he finally said. 

Elernil nodded silently, and returned to moving his dinner aimlessly about. 

Elrond sat deep in his chair, elbows on the armrests, his eyes on the dim strip of light that Anar apparently deemed necessary to shine onto the floor of his chambers. Anar had replaced Ithil, but he had not paid much attention to it, occupied with thoughts of his wife, and regrets that he had not immediately set to resolve their argument when it had started. He had not gone to the evening meal, and had simply sat in his study, until he could no longer bear it. Quietly, and more than ready to take the blame, he had gone to their chambers, where he had expected Celebrían to be. Upon finding the chambers empty of occupants, he had simply returned, angry with her, but more angry with himself. It had taken some effort not to give in to the temptation to slam the door shut. 

The longer this would drag on, the harder it would become, he thought. 

Almost a day now, a day in which all the house had remained quiet and subdued, knowing of the discord between its lord and lady. 

_And for what?_ Elrond considered. _Absolutely nothing._

He had been overly worried, had felt slightly irritated by what seemed to be his closest friends acting behind his back; first Ereinion, and then Glorfindel. But subsequently all had been pulled out of context, and he himself had participated in this largely. 

They had been at odds before, Celebrían and he, but never more than an afternoon. This present situation was eating away at him, keeping him from sleep, from his normal routines, from everything, truthfully, more so because it had all the features of something that could result in heartbreak. 

She was always the one that resolved his inner conflicts, who helped him sort out any disagreements he had engaged in with others. But who would resolve any conflict between them? Who knew whether this was not the final drop for her, the thing that would create a distance between them?

He chastised himself. 

_You see what kind of sorry state you put upon yourself, Peredhil? Have you not received countless proofs of her love, her utter devotion to you over the years?_

_This is merely something that must be resolved for all to be well once more, and it would already be so, if you were both not so opinionated and stubborn as you are. _

He sighed. 

The worries which had caused his irate behaviour the day before were still present in his mind, but after a long night of quiet contemplation, he could be more objective about it. The argument nonetheless stood as it had before, he still viewed it as he did before, but it should never have been taken as far as it had been now. 

Sitting so, pondering away, he distinguished the neighing of horses, the sound being carried up and entering through the open doors of the balcony, causing his heart to jump. 

As quick as he could, he made his way down towards the stables, in a quiet rustle of loose robes. He had expected to find arrivals, and not members of the household departing. Especially not these particular members of the household. 

His wife stood with her back turned to him, dressed in a splendid grey. Elrond recognised it to be one of the dresses he loved to see her in, with its intricate embroidery at the sleeves and front, and difficult to open buttons. Standing beside her horse, slipping on her riding gloves, she seemed not to notice his presence. A little further off Elrond noticed his grandson, also ready for travel. _Celebrían._

She turned at once, surprise in her blue eyes. 

_Elrond. _She responded almost curtly, which he had not thought possible in their quiet way of conversing. It hurt him, as he knew it hurt her. 

'Where would you go, lady?' _Without even telling me?_

'To the sea.'

_Half a day's journey to flee from me? _

'To clear my mind,' she replied. 

He found her mind carefully guarded, each gentle touch he attempted refused. Finally nodding, he watched her mount, reminded of how the gentle mother was also a strong and powerful presence of her own, a side which was so easily forgotten. 

'May your journey be a safe and uneventful one, leading you to your intended destination.' 

Inwardly scolding himself for acting more cold than he actually felt, he stepped back, ready for any biting remark she would be justified to give. It did not come. 

'Navaer, Elrond.' she merely replied, turning her horse and urging it on. 

He could only watch, ignoring Elernil's confused stare, standing silently as riders and horses finally disappeared from sight. Then he spun around abruptly and strode back inside, into the library and up the stairs, where he slammed the door as hard as he knew was possible without doing damage to the ancient wood. 

As soon as she knew she was far enough removed from Imloth to be able to keep her feelings secure without intense concentration, Celebrían addressed her grandson. 

'Ride on to Tirion, Elernil, and inform Celebriníel to prepare to accompany me to visit her grandmother.' 

He hesitated, but her serious gaze won the young Elf over in the end, and he spurred his horse, riding away fast. 

Celebrían was glad to be alone; with Elrond's face before her mind's eye ever since she had left Imloth, that pained look of surprise and disappointment so clearly written across his features, she had been forced to summon all her power to keep back her tears. Now, she would have a much-needed moment to herself. 

At Imloth she had been very close to simply bursting out in tears and throwing herself into Elrond's arms. The fact that he had stopped guarding his mind, making his thoughts and feelings easily accessible to her, had only brought her closer to actually doing it. 

But she had not. 

Using her sleeve, she dried her wet eyes. 

She had heard him go to their chambers the night before, had felt his anger, his disappointment, as he returned and barricaded himself in his study again. Very close, she had been, to going to him then, but she had remained where she was, staring at the night sky. More objective at that point, she knew quite well her words had been harsher than his. He had more right to this anger than she. 

Her anger was gone, but it had been replaced by emptiness, tiredness. A kind of cold detachment she was only now able to shake off. 

The night had brought a revelation to her. Not pride, or stubbornness, had been that which made her meet Elrond head-on. It had been regret. Her own regrets now being reflected onto her daughter. 

Sighing deeply, she brought her horse to a slower trod. 

She had never considered those years between her first meeting in Imladris with Elrond, and a much later one which had resulted in marriage, to be wasted years. They had been different people then, had changed over time, had not been ready yet. She believed it to be true still. 

_But why then_, she asked herself, _do you feel the need to protect your daughter, as if waiting was a mistake you made in the past, an error you do not wish Celebriníel to make now? She is not you._

Prompting her mare to speed up again, Celebrían closed her eyes, trusting the animal to keep her safe. She needed the wind through her hair, against her face. She needed it to clear her mind. The wind proved not to be very obliging today. 

Exactly three hours after entering, Elrond stormed out of his study again, pulling off his robes as he moved through the corridors, entering his chambers, attempting to find travel garments, all the while cursing his own idiocy. 

'So much for wisdom increasing with age,' he muttered to himself. 'For you have apparently gained _none_ since your fiftieth year.' 

Slipping on a tunic and breeches, throwing a cloak around his shoulders, he turned and sped down the stairs, feeling his stomach tumble. He knew what was to be done, what was necessary to make all be well again. 

Ride, he would, as fast as he possibly could. 

And when he found her, he would simply beg, beg forgiveness, beg for understanding, beg for lips to touch his and her voice to tell him all was well. 

'How can you possibly be foolish enough to bring separation upon yourself?' he asked rhetorically. 'When you could not prevent it, you vowed to do all in your power to never let it occur again, and now...'

In the hall, he stumbled upon Erestor, who met his eyes, seemingly more amused than he should be. 

'If you ride fast, you can reach the coast before nightfall,' he offered. 

Elrond stared at him.

'As a friend, Erestor, is it not your duty to point out my folly to me, especially when it becomes too obvious?' 

Smiling sensibly, Erestor shook his head. 

'I thought it not my place, on this occasion.'

'Well, make it your place, on future occasions.'

'I should?'

Looking up from fastening a last catch of his clothing, Elrond finally nodded. 

'I have been a fool.'

'Indeed.'

Growling and walking on, Elrond could hear his old friend's laughter, and felt his heart lift. 

Preparing his horse went in quite a haze, and before long he found himself on the road to Tirion, not entirely certain as to how he exactly arrived there. Knowing there were several hours of travel ahead, he dedicated himself to journeying as fast as possible. He vowed to pay attention to the scenery on the return journey. 

When after some time Tirion appeared on Elrond's left side, he realised over a third of the distance had already been covered. Paying little attention to the white walls, he only urged his horse faster. 

Much as Erestor had predicted, it was shortly before sunset that Elrond cleared the sandy dunes, and reached the small assembly of structures that stood a stone's throw removed from the base of his mother's tower. He dismounted and led his horse over to a small wooden and stone construction he knew served as a stable. Upon entering, he immediately spotted Celebrían's white mare. 

After taking care of his own mount, he could not help but walk over to the pale animal, giving it a comforting scratch behind the ears. 

'Where is your mistress then?' he whispered, as the horse nuzzled his shoulder. With a smile, he stepped back, ready to leave and seek out Celebrían. Possibly the best thing was to look for her inside one of the structures, he thought. But before he could decide on a precise course of action, a sound behind him made him turn abruptly.  

'Adar?' 

'Briníel?' 

His daughter fell into his arms the next moment, and he held her close, for it seemed all he could do. 

'Naneth came to Tirion,' she explained to his shoulder. 'And Ereinion thought... We came with her.'

Withdrawing, Elrond looked at her. 

'Ereinion is here?' he could not help enquiring. Only now did he notice the other horses, one of them definitely Ereinion's.  

Celebriníel nodded. 

'He is with Daernaneth, just...' she pointed, and meant to lead the way, but Elrond held her back. 

'Your mother?'

'She went out some hours ago, after we arrived, but she has not yet returned.'

Catching his daughter's hand, and bringing up the other to stroke her cheek, Elrond smiled, quietly surprised most of his earlier anger had now gone absent.

'I must find her first.'

High above, Anar shared the sky with Ithil still, creating a palette of colours too extensive to describe. Not even for a moment did Elrond allow it to hold his interest. He scanned the shoreline, the light sand contrasting with the dark water in the approaching dusk, hoping to distinguish a figure somewhere, but did not. Drawn southward, he began walking as Anar finally gave way to Ithil overhead. 

Some leagues removed from the shore, small boats drifted, the sails lowered. Fishermen, or simply lovers of the tug and pull of the ever-changing waters, Elrond thought. Rubbing his forehead, he sighed. 

And then he heard it, familiar, a part of him, ancient and still never the same. 

He quickened his pace, going towards the sound, which was only a thing brought by the wind, until at last, at last, his eyes could confirm it.

'Celebrían!' he called against the wind, but it was not in vain, as he first feared it would be. The singing ceased, and the silver-haired lady, still dressed in the light grey of before, turned to him, but stayed where she was. Elrond hurried on. 

Since his light travel clothing did in no way hinder him, his pace was swift, and at times he did not think his feet even met the ground. The wet sand of the shoreline was easy to run in, and he neared in no time at all. Perhaps before he had been able to consider his actions further. Slowing, it was only at the very last moment that he looked up to meet her eyes. And there he found his own feelings, his own regrets mirrored. 

Before he was aware of it, he had slipped his arms around her waist and was kissing her, feeling one of her hands on the back of his neck, her lips desperately seeking his. Answering her lips he pressed her closer, before trailing his lips over her cheek, bringing them close to her ear.  

'Nîn díheno, Celebrían.'

Cold fingers touched his ear, stroking back the loose strands of his hair which the wind had tugged from their hold, while trembling slightly. 

'_Nîn_ díheno, meld'aran órenyo.' 

Suddenly, the darkening sky was lit up by lightening, and far away, the clouds grumbled an early warning: rain would come. 

Both Elves had been startled by the flash, but now directed their attention back to each other. 

Catching one of Celebrían's hands, Elrond brought it up to his lips and closed his eyes. She smiled, and touched his face. 

'It would be wise to return, before the storm breaks.' 

Elrond smiled, meeting her eyes.

'We will not make it.'

'You do not wish to try?'

'I would try if my lady wishes it.' 

Still holding his hand, Celebrían began walking back, walking just a little bit faster than she would have in any other case. Letting his hand slip from hers, she looked over her shoulder with an enticing smile. 

Elrond took some quick steps to reach her, but she had anticipated it and swiftly evaded him, starting to run. With a chuckle, Elrond went in pursuit, as the first drops of rain began to come down. 

Celebrían was certain she was flying, her heart was light enough to make it possible. He had come, he had found her, and he felt the same. He was faster than she was, and she was quite aware of it. Swift feet were closing in on her, and she knew it would not be a moment longer when he would catch her. 

But she wanted to be caught, she smiled to herself. 

And then it was there, a strong arm around her waist, and she laughed in relief and surprise, as it lifted her slightly, making her unable to go on. Elrond allowed her to turn in his arms, but no further than that, holding her firmly and kissing her with a pleased groan. 

Returning his kiss, Celebrían let her hands wander his body, travelling lower, until she found his grip easing. Only a moment longer did she continue her caresses, and then she pulled free again, causing Elrond to gasp in surprise, but dashing after her almost at once again. 

Raindrops began to hit her face more rapidly, but she did not mind, nothing mattered right now. Raising her face towards the advancing water, she slowed, and soon felt Elrond press against her, his hands on her body. 

'The dunes, melethril,' he whispered throatily, and for a moment she contemplated it seriously, before she remembered the rain. 

'The stables, melethron,' she offered instead, and he nodded. 

Celebrían pushed open the stabledoor and peered inside to ascertain only horses occupied it at present. The thought of going inside to get warm by the fire had been discarded by the both of them almost at once. Elrond began unfastening his cloak with icy fingers, as they stepped inside, and as soon as he dropped the item, Celebrían pushed him back against the stable door, engaging him in an open-mouthed kiss, urgently undoing the fastenings of his tunic. The fabric was wet, and her fingers as cold as Elrond's, but she persisted, with nothing of her usual carefulness. 

Elrond began kissing her neck, while at the same time his fingers tried to uncover more flesh for his lips to caress. He too, found resisting fabric clinging to the wearer, rather than allowing itself to be peeled off. 

As Celebrían reached his skin and pressed her warm lips against his chest, he halted, not able to do anything but stare for a moment, allowing her radiance to illuminate his soul, his entire being. Soft bites to his nipples, combined with icy fingers, made a shiver run up his spine, pleasant, only guiding him further into pleasure. 

Her silver hair poured over Celebrían's shoulders in wild rivulets, the rain had caused it to curl even more, and Elrond could not keep from running his hands through it. Long elegant fingers had meanwhile taken to unlacing the front of his breeches; determined tugging movements that caused his breath to speed up considerably. 

Bringing his nose to her ear, he inhaled deeply, catching her scent, before bestowing soft kisses on her skin, all the while waiting, too well aware what she was doing.

Having loosened the garment enough, she rested her hands on his hips. Gently he stroked her back, meeting her twinkling eyes as she moved her hands down a little, together with his breeches. 

Then she knelt before him, keeping their gazes locked as fingers began playing on the inside of his thigh. Breaking their stare, her agile fingers were joined by lips and tongue, making Elrond gasp and close his eyes, leaning back against the door. Heat rushed though all of his body, and he felt his face redden as his hands stroked her hair, and her ministrations went on, teasing him into readiness.  

'Celebrían...' Her name rolled off his tongue in a hoarse whisper, insisting, warning. Not that he doubted she knew when it was prudent to cease, but he feared she would continue to the very end, whereas he longed to join with her more than anything in Arda. 

Her warmth disappeared, and he felt her rise to her feet, following his body with her own. Almost before opening his eyes, Elrond placed an arm around her waist, turning her around, and pushed her back against the door as fiercely as she had pushed him before. 

There was no need for instructions; years of shared experience proved themselves at once: as he moved up her dresses and grabbed a hold of her thigh, lifting her against him, Celebrían firmly enclosed his waist with both legs, forcing him as close as was possible as he held her captive between flesh and wood. 

Elrond, his arm still encircling her waist, placed his free hand against the door to keep himself steady, and found her mouth without wavering, as she parted her lips to grant him a deep kiss. 

Finally moving his hand down her body, having some trouble slipping it under her soaked clothing, he at last rested it on her thigh before moving on, making her moan against his lips, as her arms tightened around his neck. He found her as ready as he was. 

Throwing back her head in abandon as much as she could in her present position, Celebrían clung to him, her silver hair spilling over her shoulders, as his lips meanwhile began to dance over her skin again. 

'Elrond...'

Breathing unsteadily, he looked up at her face. 

'Yes?'

'Please?'

'Yes.'

Firmly securing the arm he had still placed around her waist, he pressed himself into her, fleetingly closing his eyes in delight upon entering. A gasp escaped Celebrían's lips, close to his ear, the stream of warm breath making him shiver in delight. 

'Ah, hervenn...' Celebrían hooked her legs even more tightly around him, and he pressed against her before searching out her lips in a passionate kiss, giving in to the overwhelming desire to start moving together. 

Wet clothing still attached to bodies now in motion caused an additional friction which Elrond found pleasurable, rather than irritating. Celebrían meanwhile directed tenders to his forehead, her hands tangled up in his hair, and then trailed more kisses over the side of his face. 

She moved her hips slightly and Elrond hissed sharply to indicate the new position pleased him. He began pressing his lips against her neck, lingering at the superficial indentation just above her collar bone, letting a hand slip down her back to her waist, resting it on her thigh. 

And then he drove his hips more forcefully into hers, causing her to arch her back as he quickened his pace, thrusting deeper, fiercely, fully aware this would wear him out before long, but adamant to tempt as many of the voiceless gasps from her lips as he would be able to. He watched her all the while, sweat gleaming on his neck and forehead.

Resting her head back against the door behind her, Celebrían closed her eyes and simply gave in, surrendering to the rapid pace Elrond had set. He needed it, as she knew she did; fast, hard, if only to prove they were both here, alive, together, and that everything was well again between them. Breath unsteady, heart pounding, she let everything flood over her. 

Elrond, breathing heavily, could not avert his eyes, her abandoning herself to him only urged him on even further. With a trembling hand he reached for her face and felt her lips press against the palm in reply. Her muscles tightened around him at the same time, coaxing a groan from between his clenched teeth. He in turn pushed up, making her gasp audibly, before claiming her lips mercilessly, meanwhile fiery deep within her. 

Pressing her against him, he looked up, finding her eyes opened again, and hungrily kissed her again as she moved her arms around his neck. 

'Tolo an nîn, melethron...' she whispered against his lips, before seeking out his tongue with her own. 

He answered her kiss, then withdrew a little, a smile on his face, and brought his lips to her ear, his tone more seductive than assuring. 

'An le, Celebrían, an le erui...' 

Resting his forehead against her shoulder, feeling her arms envelop him protectively, one of her hands resting against the back of his neck, he placed both hands on her waist and resumed movement, knowing the end was near. She met him now, joined in his movement, inciting him to the fullest. Elrond fought it, wishing to prolong, all the same aware it was futile. 

It was when her fingers began roving through his hair, slightly pulling, that he yielded, spending himself with a hoarse moan, gripping her thighs firmly, then breathing out and turning, leaning back against the door. He let himself slide down, holding her against him so that they ended up seated on the cold stone floor. 

Bring up a hand to touch her face, Elrond laughed breathlessly. 

'An le, meleth-nîn.'

Disentangling herself, Celebrían smiled broadly, then began restoring her clothing before sitting up on her knees to help Elrond to do the same, tenderly adjusting and lacing up his breeches, kissing his lips and settling against him. 

Elrond gazed up at the roof, where a small opening, drops of rain still sporadically falling through it, showed the dark sky, filled with stars. Celebrían watched him pensively bite his lower lip as she lay her hand on his chest.

'Did I hurt you?' he suddenly whispered, averting his eyes from the sky. She laughed. 

'Any bruises you have caused this eve I shall wear as marks of distinction.' 

He kissed her, and then she lay down against him, her head in his lap, a hand stroking his thigh. 

After a while, he began stroking her hair, and followed the edge of her ear with precision.  

'I was... worried,' he whispered. 'And yes, I felt hurt. It was difficult but possible to cope with Ereinion not speaking of this to me, but Glorfindel departing without leaving even a short message...' He sighed. 'It did not help that you began pointing out I should not be acting as I was. At the time I did not realise you were as anxious as I, and that this was precisely what caused the argument to escalate.' 

'I should not have snapped at you,' Celebrían whispered in reply. 'The fault lies with me also.'

'I did not act as I did because I believe they do not love each other...' Elrond continued, still occupied with her ear, bestowing slow, careful caresses upon it. 'And I would say it was not because of some ill-fated link to the past either.' He sighed. 'You and I, Brí, you and I, even before we were married, you knew me, you had time to realise how utterly inflexible I can be. A long time. She has had no such chance. She has only now learnt of the memories he carries, and only just. She knows what happened in Mordor, she has been taught, like all who were born afterwards have been taught, but he has _seen_ it, like he has seen so much, he was _there_, he has Mordor inside him, like I shall always carry it with me. Yes, in the early days of their young love, this might prove no obstacle. But then? She is a child of the Blessed Realm, and even though Ereinion seems to be too, on occasion, we both know he is not. His memories brought them together now, but in years to come, it could very well come between them.' 

'Would not love heal his hurt?'

Elrond pondered that silently. 

'Part of it, yes. But Ereinion... He seems determined to deal with his feelings himself. You know he speaks rarely of it with anyone. Do you truly think Briníel would be different? She has not seen death, does not know the fear of... Middle-earth.' He sighed. 'How long before he would simply stop speaking to her, because he sensed she did not understand?'

Arms folded, Celebriníel stood before the darkened window, watching lightening far-away against the night sky. Her grandmother had left them some time ago, as was Elwing's custom when Eärendil sailed the skies. 

'They will be all right?'

An affirmative 'hmm' sounded from the darkness behind her, followed by a soothing whisper. 'There is no need to worry.'

Raising a hand to touch the wooden pane, she nodded. 

'You are probably right. But Naneth went out not looking well, and now with Adar here...'

'I should think they are quite well, most likely sheltering somewhere. Your father was always good at finding shelters.'

Leaving the window, walking into the darkness, Celebriníel found Ereinion's shoulder with her hand and sat down beside him. 

'You think he is angry?'

'I think he might be.'

'What will happen?'

Letting a long breath escape him, Ereinion caught her hand. From Celebrían's vague references to what had happened at Imloth, he had understood Elrond suspected, if not already knew of the situation concerning him and Celebriníel. 

'The fact that he did not immediately seek me out to throttle me is a good sign.'

Celebriníel chuckled briefly, then sat silent. 

'Should we wait for their return?'

Rising to his feet, still holding her hand, Ereinion shook his head, hoping her eyes had adjusted enough to the dark to see it. 

'With the weather worsening, they could very well have gone on to the next Teleri settlement. Which would mean they would not be returning until tomorrow. So either we retire, or we attempt to find dry wood and build a campfire outside. This dark room is depressing me.'

Tempted to spend the night on a beach with him, but feeling very well how tired she was, Celebriníel smiled. 

'Is it still raining?'

'You were at the window last, if I recall.'

She nodded.

'Then it probably still rains.'

He laughed and raised a hand to her face, causing her to become very quiet. 

Even in the darkness he could see her cheeks were aflame and he could not help but smile.

'Get you to your rooms,' he spoke softly.

Celebriníel breathed out heavily.

'Goodnight, Ereinion.'

Chastely kissing her cheek, he squeezed her hand. 

'Goodnight, my sweet.' 

Her hand slipped from his, and she climbed the stairs to the floor above, where several bedrooms were situated. He had seen it, her room, a bright place with large windows through which Anar's first rays would shine brilliantly in the morning, and wake whoever slept there in time for a marvellous sunrise. 

For a moment he imagined how it would be, to wake at her side, to see golden rays illuminate silver hair and pale skin. A pleasant thought. 

It lighted his way through the darkness as he ascended the stairs to his own room opposite hers. 

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Nîn díheno: Forgive me

meld'aran órenyo; 'beloved lord of my heart'. It comes from a poem written by Björn Fromén, Valinórenna (Celebrían's Farewell to Elrond) and it can be found at www 

Tolo an nîn, melethron...: Come for me, lover... 

An le, Celebrían, an le erui...: For you, Celebrían, for you alone...

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	30. Choices

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

A/N: First, my apologies for yet another large gap between the posting of chapters. Real life sucks sometimes, doesn't it?   
Then, a big thank-you to everyone who nagged me to update, and reviewed. ;)

My thanks also go to Kalurien, for once again putting up with my weird grammar. She probably saw too many versions of this chapter than is good for a person.   
A last nod to my LiveJournal friends. You guys rock. :D   
I'd be lost without you all, really. 

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**Chapter Twenty-Nine     Choices******

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Propelled forward with force, a pebble flew across the water, skipping only once before encountering a wave it could not possibly surmount. The water swallowed it promptly. A moment later it was followed by another, which sunk in nearly the same manner. 

Ereinion stood by the shoreline alone, a supply of small stones in one hand, flinging them away one by one with the other. Ithil had risen high, and was reflected in the dark waters below. The rain of before had long weakened and stopped, the wind close to non-existent, making for a night on which the only sound in the air was that of the ebb and flood of the sea.

On the second floor of the house which stood nearest to Elwing's tower, Celebrían was seated on a windowsill, observing the Elf-lord outside while the fine curtains, moving softly in the wind, concealed her. After leaving the stables and entering the house some time before, she and Elrond had shared a bath and retired to bed. But neither of them had slept. She had left the bed a while ago when sounds from across the hall had indicated Ereinion had left his room, and subsequently the house.

Still in the large bed, Elrond lay awake. Staring at the ceiling, he found he was unable to pose the question which preoccupied him now even to Celebrían. The air around him seemed thick, uncomfortable to breathe, even if it should not be. And still more questions pressed themselves on him. 

_What are you to say? What are you to do? _

He quietly wished for the anger of before, if only because it gave him something, a lead on how to react. He wished for the certainty and conviction with which he had spoken before. But it had gone. 

'Brí, do you think now would be a good moment to speak with him?' he heard himself ask, his voice undecided. 

Celebrían turned to face him, and she watched him silently awhile. Elrond fixed his eyes on her, alert in a manner he knew was almost contrary to his body, which was entirely at peace. This anxiety he felt existed in his mind alone. 

She rose and returned to the bed, sitting down beside him. As she placed a hand on his chest, Elrond rested his own over it, his eyes never leaving her face. 

'He knows you will come, whether it is now or later,' she whispered. 'I do not doubt he has heard us return and ascend the stairs. He suspects we heard him in turn. This would be as good a time as any.' 

Raising a hand to her face, Elrond gently touched her cheek. 

'Lie down with me a little.'

Slipping between the sheets again, Celebrían settled against him, feeling him place an arm around her and bury his face in her hair. She kissed his ear in reply, resting an arm around his waist.  

'Tell me, El-nîn.'

'I wonder,' he started, 'if we should not speak with Briníel first. I fear to influence her, and yet if I go down presently and speak with Ereinion. I...' Shaking his head, he groaned softly and turned onto his back. 'I do not know.'

'I see the quandary,' she whispered. 'There is something to say for speaking with Briníel, but at the same time, this is something she must come to terms with, and decide upon herself.'

'It seems to me, that if we give her time and freedom, Ereinion should do the same.' 

Celebrían smiled and touched his lips. 

'Then perhaps that is what you should tell him.'

'I do not say I believe he would force her into this because of his own selfishness,' Elrond asserted. 

'I know you are not.'

'I fear he will think it.'

'You forget,' she whispered. 'He has long struggled with these feelings. He has long been uncomfortable with them, concerned over exactly what you are concerned over. Possibly he understands better than you think.'

'Perhaps...' The sentence trailed off into silence. 

Stroking his hair, Celebrían said nothing, but softly began humming a dreamy melody Elrond recalled hearing before. For a while he attempted to recall why it sounded so familiar, but when she ceased he realised it had accomplished its purpose. It had cleared his mind a moment. 

With a kiss to her brow he withdrew from her embrace, and slowly pulled away the sheets, stepping out of bed. As he dressed quietly, Celebrían moved to the window again. Elrond wrestled quietly with unruly buttons, but before leaving, he halted by the door and looked back. As if she knew he would, Celebrían turned, a reassuring expression on her face. Nodding to her, he then slipped out of the door, leaving it slightly ajar. 

His eyes fixed on the sky, Elrond made his way towards the water. As dark as the sky was, so lay the water in front of him, not threatening, but not serene either. On nights like this one, Ulmo, through the water, seemed to enjoy showing his control. The night was fresh, but Elrond did not think it was the reason he shivered. 

He had thought Ereinion to be too preoccupied with his stone-throwing, but as soon as he halted beside him, the High Prince's eyes flashed to his face, only to quickly fix themselves on the water again. For a while, Ereinion simply continued throwing, saying nothing. But, flinging away the final stone, he seemed lost, stared at his suddenly empty hands.  

'I expected you to seek me out immediately and confront me when you arrived,' he said. 'But you did not.'

Elrond narrowed his brow and looked at the dark grey mass of water before him.  

'I had to seek out Celebrían first.' 

Ereinion nodded. 

'I understand.' 

His mind forced back to the argument between him and Celebrían, Elrond stood lost in thought a while. 

'Do you realise how easy it is to hurt someone you know so well?' he said finally. 

Slapping the grains of sand from his hands, Ereinion hesitated a moment before looking at Elrond. 

'I am well aware.' 

As silence reigned again, Ereinion found himself unable to keep back the words foremost in his mind. 

'I tried to keep from giving in, but I could not.'

The words pulled Elrond out of his stream of thought, but he remained quiet as Ereinion averted his gaze.

'I had not calculated this. I truly believed it was something of an infatuation. I believed it would pass.'

'But it did not.'

Biting his lip, Ereinion shook his head. 

'I spent months agonising, wondering if I had just imagined it. At a certain point, I truly thought I had, only to return to Imloth and find myself confronted with feelings I knew I should not have. I never meant to. But it happened.' He glanced at Elrond again. 'Do you wish me to ask for your permission?'

Elrond focussed on the water once more. 

There was no simple answer to give. Yes and no. _Yes, because she is my daughter. No, because I have so little to say about this, when it comes down to it... _

Speaking his mind before he could keep himself, Elrond uttered what possibly would have better remained a fleeting thought. 

'Can you say, with all certainty, that she loves you?' 

'What would you have me say?' Ereinion whispered in reply. 'I am all too well aware of how swiftly the winds of young love can change. However much you might doubt I have learned from past mistakes, I have my regrets,' he added insistently. 'I lost love once because I took my time. Alian was uncertain of my feelings, and in the end she judged I had been untrue to her, had not been open with her. I regret that.' He paused to take a deep breath. 'I will not let this happen again. I shall not allow it.'

Elrond seemed almost not to have noticed Ereinion's words. 

'Why did she come to Tirion?'

Ereinion straightened his back.

'A dream,' he whispered. 'I dreamt and she saw it, felt it. And she came. I know not how.'

'Dreamt of what?' Elrond sounded detached, his eyes far away. 

'Mordor. Dying.' Ereinion swallowed, a dark look on his face. 'It is not what you think.'

Slowly, surprised, Elrond turned his gaze back to Ereinion. 

'You know what I think?'

Locking his gaze firmly with Elrond's, Ereinion's reply was emphatic. 

'I did not bond with her.' 

Swallowing, Elrond shook his head. 

'I have seen my eldest daughter choose love, with death as the inevitable consequence. It cannot therefore be entirely surprising I wish my youngest daughter to find love and happiness without such a final outcome.' 

He cast a contemplating look at the High Prince. 'You know my fears.'

Bending his head, Ereinion rested his chin on his chest. 

'Better than you think I do.'

'You might never mean to hurt her, but...'

'Did you never hurt Celebrían?' Ereinion asked, glancing at Elrond. 'I am aware the question is not fair.'

Tempted to make his reply sharp, Elrond found he could not quite manage the tone. 

'When Brí and I married, she knew of my eccentricities. Briníel does not know you quite that well.'

'I have never said I would not give her time,' Ereinion replied, his voice uneven. 

Nodding, Elrond pressed his lips together. 

'There are moments, when I say with all the conviction that I posses that if she loves you, or grows to love you, only that matters. And then I go on to realise I, as a father, will in truth have a hard time abiding to such a romantic notion alone. You might love her, Ereinion, but can you make her happy?'

Ereinion met Elrond's eyes.

'I can try my best. And I do love her, Elrond, not because she is your daughter, rather despite she is your daughter. I have said to her I would wait. She knows how I feel about the matter. Much how you feel about it, it appears.' 

Eyes fixed on the star-filled night sky above, Elrond seemed reflective. 

'Celebrían pointed out to me that my daughter was mature, and well able to make her own decisions. Perhaps she was right, and I am simply too protective to recognise it as thus.' He looked at Ereinion. 'I was torn... I _am_ torn between whether I should have spoken to Briníel first. Perhaps that would have been wiser. But at least now I know where you stand.'

'You mention _perhaps_ in there often.' Ereinion said with a small smile, which Elrond returned. 

'You always said I was too much of a thinker for my own good.'

There was silence between them once more, but it seemed a more comfortable one than before. 

'Let me speak to her first,' Ereinion suddenly said. 'I know your mind. Allow Briníel and me to decide how it goes further.'

Taking a deep breath, Elrond made an acquiescent gesture. 

'I have always trusted you with her. I shall continue to do so now. But promise me you will come to me if there is need for it.'

'You have my word.'

'She is like me, Ereinion. Too much thinking for her own good.'

'I know it, meldir. I do.' The expression on the High Prince face changed, softened somewhat, and he smiled faintly. 'I wonder if it would be easier if we argued fiercely over this.' 

'It would not,' Elrond replied softly. 'It would hurt more people than merely you and I.' 

He slowly turned, starting to walk back to the house with measured but deliberate steps. In a daze he climbed the stairs, pushed the door which he had left ajar upon leaving open, closing it after entering. Looking up, he met questioning blue eyes. Celebrían was seated on the bed again. 

'Yes?'

He nodded, then dropped onto the bed and settled against her, pulling her close and burying his face against her abdomen, closing his eyes. Before he knew it, he was asleep. 

It was light shining into the room that woke Elrond, so different from that in their rooms at Imloth, which were situated on the western side of the house. 

Burying his face in a pillow, he lay there a while, content to simply be. 

Many thoughts occupied him; how he had not spoken to Ereinion as he had intended, or imagined he would before, and how difficult it would be to discuss the matter with Celebriníel and not give her the feeling he was interfering. 

Just as he thought he was ready to rise and confront everything that needed confronting, Celebrían quietly entered, presenting him with a small breakfast. 

'Our daughter is inspecting boats with Ereinion, I thought you would like to know,' she told him with a smile. 

He joined her in smiling and turned onto his back before sitting up. 

'He said he would speak with her. But this is interesting news so early in the morning.'

'Quite,' Celebrían half teased, sitting down beside him and feeding him a piece of bread. 'Aur maer, meleth-nîn.' 

Suspiciously, Elrond chewed the bread. 

'Were you afraid I would storm down and drive them apart?'

'Actually,' she smiled, 'I was not. If you had openly asked Ereinion to leave he would not be here now, methinks. But when my husband drops into bed and falls asleep at once, I suspect he has need of respite.'

'One of these days, Brí, you will have to accept you married an old Peredhel. I have slept little for the past nights, and no doubt this has an effect on my weak and frail body.' He tried to look serious as he carefully studied the rest of his breakfast. 

Bending forward, bringing her lips close to his ear, Celebrían tried very hard to keep from chuckling out loud. 

'For one so old and weak and frail, you managed quite well last night.' 

Withdrawing, she watched his face for reaction, but Elrond kept his eyes on the food, shifting it around a little. 

'So my wife did not find it an entirely unpleasant experience?' He glanced up at her enquiringly. 

Celebrían met his eyes and tilted her head, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 

'Perchance I shall require a repeat performance to adequately judge this.' 

'I shall gather what is left of my fragile frame and attempt to live up to expectations.'

Giving him an enticing look, Celebrían nodded.

'Hmm.'

He smiled, and offered her some bread, which she gladly accepted. 

'Anything else, lady?' he asked, touching her knee. 

Bringing her hand up to his face, she mirrored his grin. 

'The pleasure of your company on a morning stroll.' 

The sound was reminiscent of the constantly flowing waterfalls, and for a moment, as he closed his eyes, Elrond could imagine being back at Imladris, and it amazed him. Opening his eyes again, he found the skies were blue, the light blue that often accompanied a sunny day. The weather was warm, to be sure, but wind was present, causing the sand in the dunes to rustle audibly through the dry grasses. 

Waves rolled onto the sand at the shoreline, but somehow the natural power, the force of nature, could not quite satisfy him. He considered whether even a storm would be able to satisfy him at this point. He doubted it very much. 

But how perfect it was, the grey blue of the sea, the pale lightness of the sand and the yellow green of the grasses on the dunes. It was as all was supposed to be.

Narrowing his eyes, Elrond watched two figures scurry around several boats, some of which were lying belly-up in the sand. 

'Surely he is not thinking of taking any of those out to sea?'

Celebrían chuckled while catching his hand, keeping her hair out of her face with the other. 

'Possibly worse, I heard him speak about one of the small sailing boats which have been lying ashore beside the house.' 

Elrond rolled his eyes. 

'Elbereth help us. Or them. Luckily Briníel is a good swimmer.' 

A whistle sounded and they watched Ereinion raise a hand in reply, leaving Celebriníel and disappearing from view. And then seven or eight elves, Ereinion included, came into sight again, transporting one of the boats closer to the shore. There, they deposited it into the shallow water. All spoke shortly with laughing gestures and amused faces before starting to prepare the boat for going out. 

'You wish to go and see?' Celebrían asked Elrond, already aware of his answer. 

'If only to inspect the planking,' he remarked dryly. 

'They will be all right.'

He nodded. 

'I cannot deny Ereinion knows how to handle just about anything that drifts on water.'

As they neared, they were greeted by Celebriníel, who evidently had forgotten something and prepared to go back to the house. Embracing her father, she smiled at him. 

'No worrying, promise?'

Smiling obediently, if not without a certain wryness, Elrond said nothing and watched her run off.  

While he was engaged in stepping the mast, no one could mistake Ereinion's radiant smile. His enjoyment was evident. 

'You will allow it?' he asked seriously, as Elrond cast a quick look into the boat. 'It is a good ship,' he was quick to add. 

'I do not think _this_,' Elrond nodded, 'quite deserves the title of _ship_. It is barely more than a rowing boat.' 

With a grin, the High Prince jumped down into the sand. 

'I never thought I would say it, but I sometimes think you lack imagination.'

Chuckling, Elrond touched Ereinion's upper arm a moment, as Celebriníel, dressed lightly and barefooted, came running back, dancing around them a moment. 

'Until later, Ada! Nana!' 

Returning to Celebrían's side, Elrond watched a short exchange between Ereinion and Celebriníel, in which the former tried to convince the latter that she should settle into the vessel as the others pushed it into the water, but she declined, and instead helped them, after tucking up her dress a little. 

Celebrían took Elrond's arm. 

'You are scowling.'

He snorted. 

'I do not doubt it.'

They watched the boat go into the water, far enough to be caught by the waves and guided further. The sails were hoisted up, and the craft slowly got underway, until the wind caught the sails and the boat glided through the water, picking up speed. 

'Now tell me,' Elrond said softly, eyes still on the water. 'I glimpsed it yesterday, but then you listened to me. It is time for me to listen to you.' 

Celebrían fixed her gaze on the sand before her. 

'We waited, Elrond, conscious or not, we waited. There is prudence in waiting for them too, I do not deny it. I cannot disregard your line of reasoning. Briníel is young, very young.' Celebrían sighed and looked up at the coastline before them, stretching on for what seemed like forever. 'But what if these worries are for naught? What if infinite happiness awaits them? Without the obstacles that we conceive to be there?'  

Elrond bent his head. 

'Will it hurt to have them wait?'

'I am tempted to say it would not. But how close were we to losing Briníel at the waterway?'

Clearing his throat, Elrond raised his eyes to the coastline again. 

'It is not a good thing to... I wish to say, I have often wondered about similar matters when still in Middle-earth. What if I had granted Aragorn Arwen's hand as soon as I knew of their shared feelings? They would have had love earlier, perhaps. Love can bring about great things, but it can also be the source for the deepest of sorrow. Would it have sped up matters? Would it have been significant at all? Somehow, we are still only mere notes in a greater melody. No matter how many _what ifs_ and _would ifs_, we do what is the will of Ilúvatar. The realisation that some things simply must be, and that we have no say over it, is a strange one.'

Taking a deep breath, Celebrían looked at him. 

'I believe Ereinion will do all in his power to bring her happiness.' 

Elrond nodded quietly.

'He made as much clear to me earlier.'

'I feared at first that this was all because you were reminded of Arwen,' Celebrían stated softly, entwining his fingers with hers.

He took a deep breath. 

'Many things go back to Arwen. I do not think it is possible to deny that. She was my youngest for so long a time. Even when you had gone, I still had her, and could see so much of you in her...' he paused and met Celebrían's eyes. 'And then, realising that when I followed you, it meant I would have to leave her behind for good... But Briníel is not Arwen. You yourself have told me this before.' 

'I recall what you said to me, when you returned to me.'

'Oh?'

'She was happy. He loved her. She loved him.'

Bowing his head again, Elrond seemed lost in thought. 

Celebrían was aware Elrond knew she had felt his disquiet over Arwen's choice, faraway, here on Aman when he still lingered in Middle-earth. And that he was conscious of how she had pleaded in silence that she had imagined it somehow. He knew how she had implored the Valar to assure her all would be well, and that her little girl would be coming with her father to Aman. How the Valar's silence had in a way answered her in that respect. 

When he came to Aman, at last, Elrond had clung to that; Arwen was happy, she was loved. It had not been difficult for Celebrían to do the same. It had helped them both to reconcile themselves with her choice as much as was possible. Even if Arwen might have regretted her decision at times, much as all have moments of reflection and qualms, they had clung to that together; the hope their daughter's happiness outweighed her grief by far.

Elrond's thoughts had evidently wandered on, for when he spoke, Celebrían could feel his concentration on things past, a past of which she had not been a direct part. 

'I often asked myself how it would have been under different circumstances,' Elrond whispered. 'I kept wondering, what if you had not been waylaid, what if Arathorn had not been slain, what if Estel...' He shook his head. 'What if _Aragorn_ had not been a mere child to carry such a burden. It is such a dangerous thing to indulge in such questions. They will so easily haunt you to the end of your days.'

A moment of silence ensued before Elrond continued.

'But it was foreseen. If he had not been born, hope would not have come to the Dúnedain, and only Ilúvatar knows whether I would have ever made it to Aman. He... Had he not succeeded, who can say with certainty I would be here, now.'

'We spoke of Arwen often before, but rarely did you mention Aragorn,' she whispered at length, when Elrond remained quiet. 

'I worried for him as I did for Elladan and Elrohir,' Elrond said, his eyes far away. 'As Isildur resembled Elros, Aragorn resembled Isildur. He was my kin. I loved him as my own. He had my brother's eyes.'

Halting, Celebrían pulled him into a firm embrace.

'Be still, El-nîn.'

_Forgive me, meleth-nîn, I promised to listen._

Celebrían smiled through her tears.

_You need to speak of these things so much more than I._

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Aur maer: (S) good morning (aur: morning, maer: good)

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	31. At Sea

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

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**Chapter Thirty     At Sea******

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Lying on her stomach, one of her hands dangling in the cool water as the boat skimmed through the sea, Celebriníel's eyes were fixed on the horizon. There was simply something utterly spellbinding about it. That there was something beyond there, a place where so many of her parents's memories lay, where her brothers were born. 

'Ever since I first came here, I have wanted to go out to sea,' she remarked, turning around to face Ereinion.  

The High Prince laughed, adjusting the sails.

'Ah, this is not sea, this is salt water pretending to be sea.'

Celebriníel watched Ereinion, scrambling from one side of the boat to the other, and back to the helm again, evidently enjoying the excursion. The sea behind him, all around them, was never the same, then blue, then grey, even a shade of green or dark, dark black, only to change again in an instant.

'Where shall we go?' she asked dreamily. 

Ducking underneath the boom, Ereinion narrowed his eyes as he scanned their surroundings. 

'We shall sail close reach a way, and then hopefully be able to run back downwind later.' 

'That did not tell me much, Ereinion,' she giggled, as he rolled his eyes and gestured her to come over to the other side. Keeping low, she approached him, attentive to the movement of wood in water beneath her. 

She caught the hand he offered just as a large wave moved the boat, disturbing her balance for a moment. Reacting with a surprised cry Celebriníel felt Ereinion's hand tighten its grip on hers, before it pulled her towards him. 

Her mouth opened as he caught her, but no sound was heard. Looking at her with questing eyes, Ereinion smiled. 

'All right?'

She nodded slowly. Heat shot up to her cheeks, and she suddenly felt warm, her stomach tingling, her breath strangely out of control. 

'Fine.'

Clearing his throat, he caught her arm and guided her to sit down. He directed a quick mental warning to himself, and then continued in a clear, controlled voice. 

'You feel the wind is coming from over there.' He waved a hand. 'It will turn slowly, and by this afternoon, though we shall possibly have to wait a bit later on with the sails lowered, once it is directly behind us, we will hoist the sails again, and it will push the boat forward, and us back, which is called running downwind.'

Celebriníel closed her eyes and took a deep breath whilst smiling. Glancing at her, Ereinion could not help but chuckle shortly. 

Her eyes shot open and she looked at him. 

'You spent much time near the sea?'

He nodded contentedly. 

'When I was still in Middle-earth, yes, I grew up near the shores. I never went far from it for too long.'

She seemed to consider this answer with some amusement. 

'You were like those little elflings that bob around in tiny boats near the coasts?' she asked, a glimmer in her eyes. 

Tying some knots in a rope, he smiled. 

'When my mother allowed it, I think I was. She was very protective of me.' 

'Because of your father?'

'Possibly. Even though by the time he... fell, I was already more on water than on land. That changed later though.'

'You turned into a land-lover?' she teased. 

'Not by choice,' he said, pursing his lips. 'Somehow the sinking of Beleriand had some strange backwards effect on my love for water. I switched to mountains from then on.'

Raising an eyebrow in a way that reminded Ereinion of Elrond, Celebriníel looked at him.

'Mountains, you say?'

'Yes,' he replied. 

'You climbed them?'

'When I could. My councillors forbid me to, at a certain point in time.'

'Did you do a lot of tumbling then as well?' she asked innocently, and he opened his mouth in mock-amazement. The next moment he ignored everything he had ever learned not to do when captaining a ship and was tickling her relentlessly, much as he had when she was younger, and teasing him as well. 

Squealing with laughter, Celebriníel first tried to escape, and then started tickling back, strangely aware of the exact spots were he was sensitive to it. 

In the end, she leant against him, and he simply held her close. 

How long had it been? An eternity? It had to have been. For anyone to be this close, and to stay this close, at the same time calling forth all kinds of feelings from him. He fought them for a while, finally deciding that it did not matter, however much he might regret indulging in this later on. 

His eyes caught a loose part of sail and he left her a moment to fasten it. He was slightly disappointed to find Celebriníel had moved away to the starboard side of the boat when he returned. 

From her new position, she could observe the coastline clearly, and soon the hypnotic effect of the clear white waves advancing and retreating on the sands, leaving colourless stretches of wet sand behind, caught her again, and kept her. The water was clear, the foam so white, it did not surprise her that her grandmother so liked living here. 

She closed her eyes. Somehow the presence of the Elf who sat only a little removed made her feel uneasy and secure at the same time. There had been something about his manner that was careful, more than before even. It made her stomach tingle, though it worried her as well. It was all different now. It was no longer a secret anymore, it was serious, real. 

The sound of the wind in the sails was comforting, almost regular, and the motion of the boat was gentle, enough to quiet her down, alone with her thoughts. 

She was drifting off when Ereinion's voice pulled her back. 

'Briníel.' He pointed towards the coast. 

There were several Elves there, some among them merely waiting, while two others were trying to pull something out of the water. As soon as the heavy object surfaced, the sun reflected on the small fish caught in the fine-mesh net, floundering, glittering. As the next net was retrieved from the waters, it proved near-empty, and soon the elf who had pulled it up, caught the edges and craftily cast it back into the sea, drops of water sparkling everywhere as he did so. 

For a time these were the things that occupied the both of them, trivial matters, things around them, birds, other Elves in boats, things of the past, a past that did not threaten, a past that seemed too long ago. Ereinion appeared to enjoy speaking of his early years, of learning how to sail. Only when occasionally his father came up did he become silent. Celebriníel merely smiled comfortingly. 

It was past Anar's highest point when Ereinion lowered the sails and the boat simply moved up and down on the waves. Celebriníel watched Ereinion settle back, finding a comfortable position as he looked around to see whether there were some last minor chores to complete. 

'Will we just sit here?' she asked, eyeing him curiously. 

He fiddled aimlessly with some rope. 

'I suppose, yes.'

'No swimming?'

He stared at her, suddenly feeling his stomach flutter. 

'If you want to.'

As she started to remove the few plaits in her hair, Celebriníel nodded with a smile. 

'You will come too? Or do you need to stay aboard?' 

The sun overhead was becoming increasingly hot, and the water offered a refreshing coolness. Taking a deep breath, Ereinion started to unbutton his tunic. Trying not to pay attention to Celebriníel pulling her dress over her head, he tried to keep his breathing in hand. Earlier, he had seen her tuck up her dress, and had deducted she could not be wearing much underneath. 

In the end, it was not as bad as he had feared. 

Before he had time to avert his eyes from the curves of her body, she dove into the water, leaving him in the boat which rocked slightly after her departure. 

A moment later she surfaced, moving back her hair. With trembling fingers he pulled off his tunic and decided against removing his trousers. They would dry quickly again in this sun, once he was out of the water. 

He rose and watched Celebriníel splash around. Meeting his eyes, she laughed.

'Well?'

Up to now, he had already had to try his best to keep from taking her in his arms and kissing her soundly, simply giving in to what his body urged him to do. And now, and he was aware of this only all too well, he was on the brink of going yet closer to temptation. 

Against his better judgement, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, diving in after her. 

The sun had heated the water over the past days, but by no means was it warm. Making some quick movements in the hope of adjusting to the temperature, Ereinion felt his heart jump as Celebriníel swam past him. Stretching out a hand he let his fingers comb through her wet hair, but when she moved out of his reach, he made some powerful strokes and ended up beside her. 

The material of the garment she was wearing did not do much to conceal her body. It stuck closely to her skin, leaving nothing to his imagination, and he felt warm instantly. Her already milky skin seemed even whiter in the dark sea. They both halted, treading water until she came closer. 

Placing her hands on his shoulders made him sink a little, and she released him at once. But before she could move away, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, lifting her slightly so he could continue treading for the both of them, looking at her, feeling her breath on his face. 

'Are you attempting to drown me?' he asked softly, a smile playing around his lips. 

'Not really,' she whispered in reply, finding his lips and throwing her arms around his neck. 

With a soft groan, he gave in, closing his eyes, forgetting to keep afloat. Celebriníel squealed and withdrew, as he started moving again. Glancing at her meaningfully, he swam back to the boat, hearing her follow. 

He caught a hold of the side and looked back. She was already there, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him again. Securing an arm around her he pulled her closer, feeling her wrap her legs around his waist. 

Her lips, her entire body was so warm, it surprised him. 

Softly he moaned, but then realisation came to him in a flash. Releasing her, he pulled himself into the boat again, then offered Celebriníel his hand. She took it without hesitation. 

Gathering all his willpower to keep his eyes on her face instead of the rest of her body, he caught her hands.

'We go about this slowly.'

Stepping back, Celebriníel sighed. 

'This is because you spoke with my father.'

He shook his head.

'This is because I should know better. This is because I would do something right for a change.'

Staring at him for a while, not certain how she was to interpret his words, she found him repeatedly looking away, finally casting his eyes skywards. Only now did she notice her undergarments clinging tightly to her skin. 

Blushing slightly, she glanced at the other Elf, standing there bare-chested in his wet clothing. Looking at his face again, she caught him averting his gaze once more. 

'Are you staring at me, Ereinion?' 

He reddened considerably, and picked up his tunic, shrugging it on. 

'No, no not at all...' 

'No, indeed, I did not think you were,' she replied with a small smile. 

Growling, he shook his head. 

Celebriníel raised an eyebrow.

'What?'

He stepped forward and embraced her tightly.

'Never mind. Yes. Yes, I was staring at you.'

She chuckled. 

'You know you can.' With a smile she kissed his cheek. 'Simply keep breathing, Ereinion.'

With some relief she looked up to see him smile, then catch her hand. 

Sitting down, he pulling her along, she settled back against him, resting one of her hands on the thigh of his pulled up leg, the other on her abdomen. Quietly he pressed his nose into her hair, bestowing a kiss there while taking in her scent. 

'I shall keep breathing.'

She turned and rested her head on his shoulder, placing a hand on his chest, just over his heart, the fingers spread. 

'Why are you so cautious?' 

Bringing his hand up and lacing his fingers with hers, he smiled weakly. 

'I fear I shall lock you out, and your father shall be right. That because you have not seen what I have seen long ago, I will...' 

When he did not finish the sentence, she withdrew her hand from his hold and began to trace his hand, gently following the veins, teasing the sensitive skin between his fingers. 

'Would you do that?'

He shook his head a little.

'I do not know.'

'You must suspect.' 

'I would unconditionally tell you I know with all certainty that it will not happen.' He looked at her. 'But perhaps truth is a better foundation for that which we are about to engage in. And the truth is that I do not know.'

She remained silent, even though her fingers continued caressing his hand. After some time she buried her face against his shoulder.

'I wish we could remain here, like this, forever.'

Swallowing, Ereinion smiled. 

'But that would not solve anything, would it?' 

'Perhaps not, but it would be just the two of us. And only you and I would matter.'

Neither of them felt the need to say more, and dozed in the sun. 

Ereinion fell asleep, and woke because the sun shone directly on his face. Squinting, he narrowed his eyes against it. The gulls which had been so evidently present not long ago were remarkably quiet right now, nothing of their sudden screams, the diving into the water for the mere spectacle of it. 

A pleasant tickle inhabited his stomach, and it increased as he became aware of a weight still pressed against him. Glancing down, he found her playing with some of the loose buttons of his tunic, her eyes away from the bright sun, resting on the water. She was at peace. Nothing of the anxiety of before seemed present, her talking and laughing had been replaced with a more quiet demeanour. And he considered that perhaps her peace was his peace. 

She only looked up when he actually caught some strands of her hair. Feeling his breath quickening, he let the silver slip through his fingers. 

Celebriníel smiled and sat up, looking down at him, placing a hand on his chest before bending towards him, pressing her lips against his, holding her breath until she felt one of his hands on her side.

'I must fetch my dress,' she whispered close to his lips, as he touched her face, lingering at her cheek. 

He nodded, and felt her shift so she could reach for it, watched as she threw the garment over her head. Extending an arm for her, she returned to his side and lay down again, kissing his lips softly. 

Then she fixed her eyes on the sky. 

'Not that I wish to, but should we not return?'

Pushing himself up reluctantly, he nodded, untangling himself from her dress. Slipping past her, he began scrambling about, making ready to get underway again. 

'Ereinion?'

He turned and met her eyes. 

'Yes?'

'If you worry... I mean... do not let fear of something that might never occur stand between... us.'

Hoisting the sails in silence, his brow knotted in thought. He asked himself if she was right. If it would be better to simply let all his worries be, and pay them no heed. Would it be possible? Would he be able to be carefree? Ereinion finally returned to the helm, sitting down next to Celebriníel again. 

Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes.

'I am afraid that if I do not keep it foremost in my mind, it shall surprise both you and myself by surfacing when we least expect it.' 

Celebriníel looked back and nodded, straightening her back a little. 

Regretting his words, Ereinion was unable to tear away his eyes from her face, and equally unable to speak more. Instead he caught her hand and pressed his lips against her fingers. Still, the silence remained for the rest of their return journey. 

The beach was almost silver, darkening and yet shining in the setting sun. As the boat was pushed towards the shore by the wind and tide, Ereinion almost regretted the moment when it hit land, and he jumped into the wet sand, which had been smooth as a mirror, with only the marks of the tide to blemish it before their return. 

With all his power he pulled the boat further ashore, until he had no more strength. He turned and found Celebriníel rising. Stretching his arms out he helped her down. 

She held on to his hand a moment, and then released it. Bending her head, she watched how her bare feet made imprints in the sand. 

Busying himself with some last tasks, lowering the sails and mast, ascertaining the boat could be left on its own, Ereinion turned to find Celebriníel watching him. As soon as she noticed his gaze resting on her, she stretched out her hand and smiled. 

Together they walked, not towards the settlement, but rather away from it. Still, there seemed nothing to say. 

Large rocks protruded from the sand near the shoreline, their surface polished by the exposure to many years of ebb and flow. The white water found its way towards the grey stone, flowing against it, between the nooks and crannies as thin as mist. 

Ereinion stared at it, hypnotised, only noticing Celebriníel's arm around his waist and his own around hers as he snapped out of his reverie. Her lips found his effortlessly. 

_Small wonder_, he smiled to himself. _When _two seek, it cannot be hard to find._ _

Her eyes were far away, silver hair moving in the wind, as they retraced their steps, now returning to the settlement. 

It was then that music carried towards them, flutes and harps, perhaps a tambourine. He watched Briníel smile and listened to her softly start to hum along. The melody was enticing, fast and melodious, not remotely like the sad tunes belonging with the lays of old, simply guiding a storyteller. The music appeared to tell the story all by itself. 

Just out of reach of the water, a large group of Elves was building a campfire, the musicians among them already playing their instruments and laughing. By the time they came closer, the fire was burning, the music continuing as ever. Most present were fair-haired Elves of the coasts, Teleri, but Elrond was among them as well, sitting on the sand, quietly talking, a smile on his face. Celebrían sat beside him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. 

Before Ereinion's nerves gained the upper hand, Celebriníel raised his hand and danced along with the music, closing her eyes and leading him along. The sounds of the harpers suddenly increased, and Celebriníel smiled, pulling Ereinion with her. He glanced at Elrond, finding something close to a frown on his friend's face. He wavered a moment, but as flutes joined in, allowed himself to be lured into the dance, lured into forgetting everything and everyone besides the young Elf at his side. _She mattered, he thought, as he watched Celebriníel dance, not anyone else. _

He wondered if she knew what she did to him, brushing past him, taking his hand only to release it again. It was a part of these dances, he knew all too well, but somehow it seemed more like teasing than anything else. 

It was unclear how long they went on like that, but the music slowed at a certain point, and with it Celebriníel ceased her flightiness. Allowing him to turn her, she was suddenly very close, looking up at him with amused eyes. 

She considered that he had forgotten how to breathe again, and was about to inform him of this when he raised his hands to cup her face. His fingers played across her skin, and she closed her eyes and let him, smiling when he brushed his lips against hers. 

'Thank you for today,' he whispered quietly. 

'I believe I should be the one to thank you, rather,' she replied. 

'We shall consider ourselves both thanked then,' he smiled. 'And then I shall deliver you into your father's care again. But promise me something?'

'Yes?'

'Do not _ever_ again lure me into something like this when your father is watching.'

She could not help but make a protesting sound, but with a grin he placed an arm around her, slipping the other underneath her legs, lifting her and carrying her towards the campfire. For a moment he feared to meet Elrond's eyes, but when he did he could only distinguish a twinkle there, the scowl of before had gone. 

'How now, Ereinion?' he asked with a smile. 

'I merely return your daughter to you in one piece and unscathed.' Ereinion said seriously, releasing Celebriníel's legs unceremoniously. As she settled onto her own feet, she elbowed him in the ribs and smiled at her parents. 

'Oh, Ada, it was wonderful, we saw Elves casting out their nets, and talked about sailing, even swam at noon, and...'

Listening to the waterfall of words, the High Prince seated himself and stared into the flames, only to find Elrond's eyes on him when he looked up. For a moment they merely stared at each other, but then Elrond smiled and nodded. Letting some air he had not realised he was holding escape from his lungs, Ereinion settled back, only to have Celebriníel sit down beside him, placing a hand on his knee every once in a while when in need of confirmation from him. 

Hoping the shadows of the fire did not betray too much of his face, Ereinion watched Celebrían, thankful to find a broad smile on her lips. And even if Elrond did not smile as much, there was something in his expression that seemed untroubled. 

Suddenly there was a chance, a very small chance which he had not dared to hope for when he had first struggled with his feelings, that this all would be well. Perhaps, just perhaps this could be... For tonight, that was more than enough, he thought, as her fingers plucked at his trousers thoughtlessly. 

For tonight it was more than enough. 

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	32. Whether Or Not Time Matters

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

For all my LJ-friends and faithful reviewers. You people are almost as nuts as I am. ;)

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**Chapter Thirty-One     Whether Or Not Time Matters******

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'Ah, Naneth, we cannot stay.' Elrond smiled as he embraced the Elf-lady. The wind tugged at their hair, as it always seemed to do when they were together. He suspected it had been the same in Sirion. Wind and water and his mother appeared to be irrefutably linked together in his mind. 

Elwing returned the embrace, then pulled back slightly and directed a forgiving smile towards her son, even if it was clear she was disappointed. Elrond had read it in her eyes as soon as he had told her they would be going on to Tirion. 

_It was worrying_, he thought. They would come here, and too often nothing would be left of their normal pleasantness. And then they would let the sea influence them further, and melancholy ruled. His mother deserved to have them come here and be happy. 

'I wish you would come to Imloth,' he whispered. 'The sea...'

Elwing smiled. 

'It does not influence my heart as it does yours, Ion-muin.'

With a shake of the head that seemed to indicate that coming to Imloth was not an option, Elwing touched his cheek. 'At least promise to visit more often, Elrond.' 

Embracing her more firmly, he chuckled, suspecting there was little point in attempting to persuade her. 

'Unless I am much mistaken, Briníel shall be in Tirion more often now.'

'And you need such an excuse to come here?' Elwing teased. 

'No,' Elrond whispered against her shoulder, suddenly serious. 'No, of course not.' Withdrawing, he looked at her. 'Next time I shall come without excuses.' 

Offering his arm, they walked down together. 

Once outside, Elrond watched Ereinion lean against the shoulder of Celebriníel's horse, while she sat in the saddle looking down on him. It struck him that the both of them looked so content. 

'I spoke to him, when they arrived here.' Elwing told him as she too looked on, 'Celebrían needed solitude, but he needed to speak.'

Pressing his lips together, Elrond halted. 

'He seems to speak to everyone but me.'

The Elf-lady shook her head. 

'You know this is not true.' She paused a moment before going on. 'He loves her. And she loves him.'

Elrond eyed his mother suspiciously. 

'Have you been speaking with Brí?'

With a laugh Elwing squeezed his arm. 

'Even if I had not, I would still have noticed how the two of them look at each other. She can heal his hurt, Elrond. And he can love her.'

Nodding slowly, Elrond looked aside to find Celebrían approaching, also ready for their journey. She stretched out her hand and he caught it.

'In a way I had to learn how to love again,' he said, making both the ladies quietly smile. 

'He was a quick learner,' Celebrían winked to Elwing. 

'I had a good teacher,' Elrond replied seriously, meeting Celebrían's eyes and exacting some pressure on her hand.  If not for her, he would have kept to what he had vowed after the Last Alliance; never to bind himself to anyone. Not in Arda Marred. What a half-life that would have been...

—~~*~~—

'You will not come with us? To Elrohir's house?'

Ereinion smiled up at her. 

'I already disappeared without a word for two days. I must return to my affairs.'

Reaching out and touching his cheek, Celebriníel smiled as well. 

'So I will be in Tirion, and you also, and yet we shall be apart?'

Taking the hand she brought to his face and pressing a kiss into the palm, he averted his gaze. Releasing it, he touched the hem of her dress casually before looking up again, grinning mischievously. 

'Supposedly, you could have your brother's wife invite me for dinner.'

Blushingly meeting his eyes, she nodded.

'I think I can see to that.'

At that moment Elrond and Celebrían, together with Elwing, neared the two, and Ereinion returned to his horse as Celebrían mounted and Elrond said some last goodbyes to his mother before doing the same. Without much ado, they set out, not truly in a hurry. Keeping next to Celebriníel for most of the journey, they discussed the weather in Tirion, the visit to the library which was officially the reason they were going to the City now, and not to Imloth. Ereinion could not deny the mere idea of her presence in Tirion did something strange to him. Pleasantly so, but strange nevertheless. 

They were not in haste, however Elrond did not intend on arriving in Tirion too late in the day. He gathered that if they were to keep to an easy pace after clearing the sand dunes they would reach the rim of the City in the afternoon. Celebriníel and Ereinion rode in front of them, talking animatedly. 

'How long do you intend to stay in the City?' Celebrían asked, and he was well aware she had known his thoughts and tried to prevent them turning darker. 

'I cannot tell you,' he replied with a smile, sending her a quiet thought of gratitude. 

'I would like to spend a little while in Tirion,' she told him. 'See my family.'

'Then we shall,' he nodded. 

The rest of the journey was uneventful, with clear skies and a cool breeze to accompany them. In front of the northern city-gates Ereinion took his leave, trying very hard not to cast too many lingering glances at Celebriníel, Elrond noted, taking some slight amusement in it. He was trying, even though there was definitely something they were keeping quiet about. 

Upon reaching Elrohir's house, Elrond lingered in the stables with Celebrían and Elrohir until he watched Celebriníel wander off with Mîrlinde. The three of them followed the two ladies into the house shortly after. 

Leaving Celebrían in conversation with Elrohir, Elrond stepped into the next room, intent on simply finding a chair and getting lost in his thoughts. But this did not prove imminent. 

As soon as he entered, a familiar figure rose.

'Elrond.'

'Glorfindel.'

Frowning a little, quite uncharacteristically, the other Elf-lord shook his head. 

'I did not intend to...'

Raising a hand, Elrond let a smile slip over his lips as he stepped closer. 

'I am aware you did not.'

Catching Glorfindel's arm prior to embracing him tightly, he chuckled. 

'Promise to leave a note next time though.'

'I should not have taken her in the first place,' Glorfindel commented. 

'I fear she would have gone alone, mellon-nîn.'

Glorfindel nodded.

'Perchance you are correct. But Elrond...'

Stepping back, Elrond looked at him.

'Yes?'

'I never intended to make it seem like I was choosing sides in this.' 

With a sigh Elrond patted him on the shoulder and sank down into a chair. 

'I would have been angry with you some days ago, but...' He shrugged. 

'But?' Glorfindel asked, sitting down on his own chair again.

'Ereinion and I spoke, and Brí... I suppose she is right in saying I should not worry before there is truly something to worry about.'

—~~*~~—

Still dressed in his travel clothing, Ereinion sat behind his desk, utterly unable to get anything done. Playing with the beautifully shaped glass pen he always used, he listened to the variety of sounds it made hitting various objects on his desk. A knock sounded on the door and he stopped, eyes fixed on whoever it was that was about to enter. A messenger? Hopefully... 

He attempted to keep a disappointed look off his face when his father came in. 

Fingon was not deceived. 

'Not who you had hoped for, Ereinion?'

Folding his arms on the desk before him and resting his head upon them, the younger High Prince growled softly. 

Sitting himself down, Fingon smiled. 

'Does this have something to do with Elrond being in Tirion, perchance?'

Ereinion made a muffled sound that Fingon took to be confirmatory. 

'Are you so set on having a philosophical discussion this evening?'

Lifting his head and scowling a little, Ereinion rose and walked over to the balcony. As he stood there he shook his head.

'I do not like waiting for messages, Adar.'

'Oh, you were already far from patient as a child, it does not surprise me.'

His father's words brought a ghost of a smile to his lips. Stepping into the sunlight, Ereinion closed his eyes, keeping silent. Suddenly it seemed birds chattered louder, more happily. 

He considered his childhood to be confusing, most of the time. He was never quite certain whether particular memories were of a past long gone, or more recent. But he recalled a moment in which he thought he had been completely happy and content, small as he had been. He was not certain, but he thought it had been here, on Aman. 

All he recalled with certainty was lying asleep in his mother's arms, in a garden, oblivious of the past, not thinking of the future. Even then, there had been times when the smell of tents was in his nostrils, and the sound of winds chasing across plains he did not recall in his ears. He had not understood the images, and they had subsequently mattered little to him. Memories of different childhoods merged continually. 

The importance had lain in his small arm around her waist, his fingers tangled up in her hair, his face buried against her, feeling her arms around him. She loved him, his nana, and at that point it had been all he needed. 

This memory quickly merged into one of his earliest memories in this life.  She stood there, in perhaps the same garden, hand in hand with his father, who rested tentative eyes on him. 

'He looks so much...'

'Yes.'

'Does he remember?'

Her voice had become a whisper, but he, small as he was, had heard nevertheless. 

'Sometimes I think he does. No nightmares though.'

'Not yet.'

He recalled his mother casting a warning gaze at his father, and then releasing the tall Elf-lord to come over where he, their son, was sitting in the grass, picking him up, holding him close. 

'There is your Ada, Ereinion-nîn.'

With a smile, he had met the grey eyes of the other Elf. 

'Ada.'

It was easy to recall Fingon's face, a flurry of emotions flying across it, amazement, amusement, love and fear. And then his father had walked over, and sat down on the grass. On that same afternoon, as Ereinion had listened to his parents talking, he had crawled onto his father's lap, only to fall asleep with the pleasant murmur the adult's voice resonating in his chest. It was one of the few clear moments he recalled. 

It was that same voice that called him back to the present. 

'I came from your mother. She asked whether you had time to have dinner with us tonight.'

Forced back to contemplate his future, even if it was a very near one, Ereinion felt insecurity creep back into his thoughts.

What if Celebriníel had not asked? Perhaps Elrond did not like the idea... No, that was nonsense. But if, for some reason or other, an invitation was not forthcoming, it might be better to be with his parents than here, alone. 

Sitting forward, Fingon folded his hands.

'What should I tell her?'

Just as he was about to answer, another knock came, and Ereinion turned to find Elernil in the doorway, several despatches in his hand. His eyes were questioning.

'If I intrude...'

Fingon chuckled and motioned the younger Elf inside. 

'No, I dare say he has been very much waiting for your arrival.'

Crossing the room with large strides, Ereinion took the messages from Elernil, mirroring the younger Elf's smile weakly. There were two. The first he opened to find an invitation for dinner, the official kind, in Mîrlinde's precise hand. 

The second was almost identical, the same paper, only bearing no name, no address of any kind, merely the seal of the House of Elrond.

Nodding to Elernil, he held it for a moment, then walked back to the balcony. Placing his index finger between the red wax and the paper, he carefully opened it, sitting down on the stone balustrade. 

_No doubt with this you have also received the invitation.   
I have to admit, I acted a little silly about it, Mîrlinde will be able to tell you.   
I am acting silly about this as well, my hands are shaking, I do not appear able to come up with something to write, and there is a fluttering in my stomach I cannot explain , all because I know you will be reading, holding this in not too long a while.   
Even if I will not be able to feel your lips on my skin tonight, or even hold your hand shortly, I know that soon I shall. _

_Until tonight,   
Yours with all my heart,_

_C. _

_P.S. I will have you know Adar did not scowl when he heard you were coming. _

He chuckled out loud at her last remark, looking at it with amazement. Reading the lines again, feeling quite the same flutter in his stomach as Celebriníel had described, Ereinion finally rested his hand and the letter on his knee. 

When he looked up, he noticed his father on the threshold. Fingon was watching him attentively, intelligent eyes perceptive as ever. 

'Did it say what you wished it to?'

Slowly he nodded, and smiled. 

'Yes, it did.'

'You seem content. I do not think you have been like this for a long time.' Fingon leant against the doorpost. 'And all this after... where did you go, the past two days?' 

Ereinion broadened his smile, in his mind a fitting reaction to the past days. 

'I went to the sea, Adar. I talked, I sailed, and I made peace with... myself.'

Fingon did not seem surprised. 

'It shows.'

'I... How did you know you loved Naneth?' 

The question slipped off the younger Elf's lips easily. Raising an eyebrow, Fingon stepped onto the balcony and sat down. 

'I take it you do not truly wish an answer to that?'

Bowing his head, Ereinion still undeniably beamed. 

Fingon chuckled and nudged his son.

'So it has happened?'

'I believe it has.'

'Tell me about her.'

Needing a moment to gather his thoughts, Ereinion shook his head. 

'I am not certain what to tell you.'

'Noldor, Sindar, Vanyar, Teleri?'

He laughed. 

'I would say a little of all.'

Fingon grinned.

'Born in Middle-earth then?'

'Born on Aman.'

'So many different flows of blood in her veins and yet born on Aman? This narrows things down. A prominent family?'

Meeting his father's eyes, Ereinion felt his face redden. 

'You have no idea.'

'You would not tell me her name?'

Self-consciously Ereinion met his gaze. 

'Not yet, Adar. But you shall know it soon, I promise.'

'You go to her tonight?'

Nodding shortly, Ereinion took a deep breath.

'I do.'

With a small smile, Fingon's eyes rested on the paper in his son's hands shortly.

'And yet that letter bears the seal of the House of Elrond...' he said slowly. 

Opening his mouth, Ereinion made to comment, certain his father had now guessed, but Fingon rose and brought up his hand.  

'I will not ask further, Ion-nîn. I trust you will tell me when you are ready.'

Again meeting his father's gaze, Ereinion could hardly miss the glimmer in the grey eyes as Fingon rested a hand on his shoulder a moment, then touched his cheek before going inside again. 

For a little longer did he simply sit on the balcony before he folded the letter carefully and tucked it away, rising to find a hot bath and appropriate clothing. 

—~~*~~—

'Would he send confirmation?'

Mîrlinde smiled as she looked around the closet door to find Celebriníel nervously fidgeting. 

'He could, but it is not strictly necessary. Something in white?'

Holding out a dress she watched the young Elf-lady's face become even more worried. 

'I suppose...'

Raising an eyebrow and walking over to where Celebriníel sat, she smiled. 

'You realise he will very likely not care what you wear?'

'I cannot say I do care about it much,' she admitted with a sigh, 'I merely care whether he comes.'

'He will come,' Celebrían said as she entered the chamber. 'Something green perhaps?'

'Possibly,' Mîrlinde nodded. Partially pulling out another dress, she looked at it thoughtfully. 'Or even red...'

Celebriníel groaned. 

'Not red.'

Both Elf-ladies looked back at the younger one sitting on the bed. 

'And this?' Celebrían said, pulling out a dark emerald dress, satiny and with silver embroidery at the sleeves. The lining was silver also, providing a striking accent to the emerald. 

Celebriníel eyed it warily. 

'The silver?'

'Try it.'

'Briníel?'

Looking up, she found her father in the doorway. With a smile he offered her his hand, making a small movement with his head that appeared to indicate he wished to speak with her. Glancing at her mother and Mîrlinde, Celebriníel rose and neared him, taking it. 

Elrond met Celebrían's eyes for a moment before stepping into the hallway. Celebrían turned around and winked at Mîrlinde. 

'Perhaps we can lay out some dresses, it will make it less of a task for her to choose.'

In the hallway, Elrond could not help notice his daughter was now almost as tall as her mother, the same silver tresses, the same eyes, even though there was not the same look in them. He had glanced into mirrors often enough to recognise it. Oh, the look was unmistakably his.

'All is going well, meluihên?'

'Once I have something to wear, I believe so, Ada,' she replied with a weak smile, before lowering her head and averting her gaze. Gently Elrond touched her face and moved away some strands of hair. Celebriníel shook her head. 'I know I am being silly, and I am aware you do not agree...' 

She straightened her shoulders and steeled herself to meet his eyes, but instead of disapproval she found his face as kind as ever. It reminded her of... summer, somehow.

Elrond hesitated shortly, but then placed a hand on her shoulder. And then, without intending to do so, he pulled her closer, into his arms, safe and sound exactly as she had been when only very small. 

'Ai, meluihên.'

'I am sorry, Ada.'

'Do you feel that tingle in your stomach? Pleasant and nerve-wracking at the same time?'

He felt her nod against his chest.

'Do you realise he is also Gil-galad?' 

_If you do_, he said to himself, _then you have nothing to apologise for_.

But instead of answering this question, she withdrew a little, and met his gaze. 

'You did not ask me why I went to Tirion.'

Simply watching her face, Elrond silently encouraged her to speak. 

'I tried to...' she began, and then started over. 'I whispered to him, and then... He did not intend for me to... He did not know I could feel what he felt. You must believe me, Ada.'

The look in Celebriníel's eyes had become beseeching, and Elrond curiously observed her. 

'What was it you felt?'

'It is hard to explain. He was afraid, and yet not so... I could smell it... the stench of the place he saw...'

'The place he remembered,' Elrond interrupted. 

'Was it... Mordor?' she asked tentatively. 

'Possibly,' he said, releasing her. 'Most likely.' Lost in thought, he stared at the wall blankly. 'But you felt it via him?'

He turned his eyes to face her again. Clasping his sleeve, she nodded. 

'That is why I had to go. I could not leave him to deal with something I caused... And it was so real.'

This time she embraced him, and he was glad to give in, if only because it provided him with some precious moments to consider what she had told him. At length withdrawing and offering his arm, Elrond led her back into the chamber, where Celebrían immediately met his eyes. 

_We must speak, meleth-nîn. _

Some dresses were lying on the bed now, and beside him he felt Celebriníel turn as uncertain as earlier. He smiled at his daughter reassuringly. 

'Something white. You and your mother always look well in white.'

Kissing her on the forehead, Elrond then felt Celebrían catch his hand. Giving a last nod to Mîrlinde, they stepped outside and continued down the hall, ending up on a balcony.

'Elrohir was in the kitchens just now. I believe they plan to have a meal prepared that is fit for...'

'A High Prince?' Celebrían offered, stepping closer to the rail. 

A smile slipped onto Elrond's lips. 

'Yes.'

Celebrían breathed in deeply and overlooked the garden contently. 

_What did our daughter say to have caused you more worries, melethron-nîn?_

'I am actually not worried,' Elrond replied. 'Somewhat surprised, rather.'

He walked over to the beautifully carved balustrade and ran his fingers through the back of Celebrían's hair. 

'Surprised?' she whispered. 

He nodded quietly, even if she could not see. 

'He saw Mordor, and she felt it through him.'

Leisurely Celebrían turned. 

'They are bound?'

With a shake of the head Elrond pressed his lips together. 

'You and I were not truly bound when we could sense each other's thoughts, even if it was accidentally. Remember I was aware you crossed the Bruinen when you came to me, a year before we were wed?'

_And yet it means..._

Resting an arm around her waist, Elrond pulled Celebrían close. 

_Yes, it seems to._

Slipping her arm underneath his, she rested a hand on his back. 

'It does not worry you?'

He stared into the distance. 

'Strangely enough, it does not.' 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

ion-muin: dear son

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	33. Stolen Moments

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Thanks to **LaJiggles** for helping with the title. And let's agree that we're both as nuts. ;)

**Mithelena**, I solemnly promise there'll be some El/Brí in the next chapter. ;)

**Aria**, as far as I know there is no information on where Celebrimbor was born, so I assumed that it was in Middle-earth and his mother died while still there (because I am evil and all that ;)). As for Finwë, Finch pointed out to me that according to the 'Statute of Finwë and Míriel' he took her place in Mandos's halls because she wished to return to her body, and Finwë could not have two spouses alive in Aman. (HoMe volume 10, Morgoth's Ring) But, you never know...

**Celebwen**, you are just as crazy as the rest of them. Thank you! :D

**Sphinx**, as for Arwen!Angst, I think it'll have to be another story. (and yes, I've sort of started it ;))

**Earelen**, well, Elrond _is as kind as summer, isn't he? ;) And would I be so evil to sabotage 'Reinion and Briníel? (never mind, don't answer that ;))_

**Pulsarkat**, *pats & gives you a chocolate elfie* ;)

**Rose Red**, *looks very innocent and sweet* :)

A great many thankyous and deluxe chocolate elfies to everyone else, not in the least the people who are sweating their way through review-athons. You all rock, and you know it! :D

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**Chapter Thirty-Two     Stolen Moments**

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Closing her eyes, feeling the wind on her face and toying with her hair, Celebriníel walked through the grass barefooted. Quietly she had slipped away, from her father and Glorfindel speaking softly together, sitting near the open window, from her mother and Mîrlinde fussing over her dress, and from Elrohir being occupied with further preparations. Ereinion would not like such a fuss either, she considered. In a moment she would return, she told herself, she had only eluded everyone a little, and it was not her intention to worry the others with her absence, nor did she wish to miss Ereinion's arrival. But for now she was merely glad to ease her mind. Out here, her nervousness seemed unimportant.

There was a pressure in the warm evening air that announced rain, and she recalled the rainy days which had preceded Ereinion's departure from Imloth many years earlier. No doubt soon a similar pouring rain would start. 

She had thought she had lost him then, that he would leave and not return, like it happened in the stories in her father's books. In a sense, she _had_ lost him at the time, she thought. Even though he had returned to her. 

_Will you go splashing through rain puddles with him again?_ she asked herself with a sigh. Of course not. All was so different now. _More difficult?_ Very possibly. 

Sitting down on a stone bench amidst the trees she closed her eyes and listened to some last birds singing their goodnight. Not difficult now, she would not allow anything to be difficult at this present time. She breathed out, letting her last worries speed from her mind. How horrible would it be to live in gardens forever? 

With her thoughts on peaceful matters, she was not aware another lingered in the gardens, aware of the fact that he was early, and not yet ready to enter the house. 

Ereinion had seen her come into the garden, had stood quietly watching as she walked the grass, deep in thought, before pulling up her dresses a little and sitting down, the silver of her hair magnificent on the dark green of the dress she wore. 

He had been caught up in some contemplating of family history before she came, and now found himself confronted with a strange sequence of thought connected to that. Her line... He wondered if it was his heart speaking or whether it was something else that made her so utterly enchanting here, more than ever before. It came to him that perhaps it was his doom to fall even more helplessly in love with her at this moment, in this place. _Ladies of her line seem to have made their history in woods and gardens. _

He was aware her eyes had closed, and he found himself unable to remain where he was. Silently he crossed the distance between them, his eyes never leaving her, somehow afraid to surprise her, longing for her to look up and see him, while at the same time fearing it. 

_We have only been playing until now. _

They had. It seemed to have stretched for so long, but was near nothing when he truly considered it. The testing, the stolen moments... When was it certain? How soon had it been? That both of them had known?

It had to have been when Arinmîr... Ereinion nodded to himself. They had played before that, the push and pull of slight jealousy and fear of feelings, followed by serious moments. More play had followed, no longer jealous, but still uncertain. Until the eve of her begetting day. And yet that had been the greatest playing of all. All had been pronounced then, and yet not.  Only to be followed by her fall...

Their games had turned gentler, with awareness for the need of a kind of secrecy.   

But an entirely new thing had started when she had come to him, to Tirion. Even if neither of them realised it at the time, it seemed Elrond had. 

They were lovers now, in the only sense possible. Soon, if it had not started already, they would begin edging closer to a true bond, one which could stand against time, learning each other's minds, acquainting themselves with what a single touch could do, how a mere glance could bring pleasure as well as pain, because that final connection would not be there yet, was not yet allowed.  

When he reached Celebriníel, he only hesitated a moment, then brought up his hand to sweep some strands of hair away. The tips of his fingers brushed her face and he expected she would open her eyes. 

But instead she kept them closed and pressed her cheek against the palm of his hand. 

'Suilad, Ereinion.'

Ever watching her, touching skin however innocently, her name was the only thing he could manage to whisper.

At the quiet tone of his voice, she did meet his gaze. She seemed almost to be studying him, merely taking in the sight of him. 

He wore mainly dark blue, the collar of his tunic not entirely fastened, showing a white shirt underneath. The intricate silver embroidery on his chest almost made his garments seem official. And yet there was something in his demeanour that was all but official... His hair braided only slightly, there could still be no doubt it had been done with care. 

There was so much in his eyes, and she marvelled once again at the expression there, her stomach tumbling, knowing it was she who had caused some of that look. 

_And no other has won your heart in all those years?_ she considered, looking up at him. _Not even tried? Such fools..._

Ereinion watched her study him, his fingers moving slightly, caressing. Long had he forbidden himself to even hope of this, but here she was... here _he was..._

Darkness had slowly advanced around them, but above, Isil and Eärendil stood clear and brightly in the sky. And there was light enough between them to keep the night away. 

Tilting her head up with his index finger, Ereinion watched her as her fingers followed some of the silver embroidery on his chest. He smiled, almost shivering. 

_Lady, you know not what you do to me..._

He did not pay attention to her fingers seizing the sides of his tunic, the movement was too light, and he could not bring himself to look away from her face. Quite unexpectedly she used her hold to pull him down to his knees, and he gave in at once, there being not much else to do.  

He watched her, his heart beating soundly, heat streaming into his face. So close now, the blushes high on her cheekbones, the glimmer in her eyes, and he felt her fingers playing at the sides of his tunic still. 

She smiled before sitting forward, reaching out to touch his face as if to study it more, and then bending close to brush her lips against his. 

It was not out of his own accord that his hands moved back the silver hair that had fallen forward, they were doing this without much of his instruction. 

But as she kissed him, he was aware of how he rose on his knees further to meet her, catching her head, deepening the merging of lips. Her hand grasped the front of his tunic firmly as she replied with passion, sighing softly. 

Almost had he encircled her waist and pulled her into his lap, if only to feel her weight against him, to torture himself with the thought of something that was not yet to be. 

But he did not, instead allowing her the lead as she pulled him closer, and he somehow found her knees pressing against his sides. He recalled sentimental love poetry which spoke of delightful agony, and he suspected this was it. To know it to be so close, and at the same time being aware of propriety and custom forbidding it. Her body, her breath against his skin... Her innocent hands awakening a fire in him he did not think he could quench. 

'Briníel,' he whispered, not in too much haste to end their kisses, receiving her lips again shortly before speaking further. 'You do not know what you do to me.'

Resting his head on her shoulder, his arms around her, he felt her embrace him also, her head resting against his, fingers slowly combing through his hair. Her lips were so close to his ear that he could feel the warmth of them. When she spoke, her breath against his skin made him giddy, a sudden flutter in his stomach. 

'How long have you been waiting?'

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her shoulder, lifting his head to meet her eyes. 

'Here, in the garden, or...?'

She smiled, teasingly raising an eyebrow while stroking his cheek. 

'You cannot have been waiting long either way.'

His eyes went dark as he stared at her, and for a little while even his earlier amusement disappeared from his countenance. Celebriníel let her fingers follow the features of his face, feeling his eyes on her, his hands on her body, motionless. She was glad to see him finally smile. 

'I am not very good at waiting,' he remarked in a whisper.

Moving a thumb over his lower lip she shook her head. 

'Does it not depend on what exactly you are waiting for?'

'Yes, it does,' he nodded, his eyes still locked with hers. 

Somewhere, there was a world beyond the garden, beyond the two of them, but his mind seemed to have some trouble registering anything except... her face... her hands... her lips... Her lips. 

Again his breath escaped his control, becoming so much deeper, more laboured, his head lighter. Closing his eyes an instant, it was only to find Celebriníel's behaviour alike, her eyes fixed on him, chest heaving. 

'To Mandos with it all,' he mumbled before securing his arms around her waist, meeting her lips urgently. Her hands were on his shoulders, then in his hair, her mouth on his, breath mingling as her body arched against him. 

He listened to her whimper against his lips, but heard himself positively gasp when she slipped off the bench and into his lap. Their kiss ceased and he, trying to control everything from breathing to body, looked up and found her eyes glimmering, almost teasingly so. 

'You wish to go inside?'

'Truthfully?' he asked, making her laugh. 

'Always truthfully,' she replied, plucking at his collar. 

'In truth I would wish to spend the evening here. You and I.' He smiled, running a hand through her hair. 

'Strange, is it not? she answered almost dreamily. 'That we both wish this thing, and yet we are both aware we shall go inside before long.'

She moved in his lap and he felt his stomach flutter, knowing it was imperative for them to leave the garden, or at least this position if he wished to keep his intentions honourable. 

'But there will be such evenings when we can do as we please. I promise you there will be,' he returned softly.

A soft rumble in the sky seemed intent on ending their private encounter, but they remained as they were until the rain did softly start. Celebriníel looked up at Ereinion. 

'Another stolen moment?'

Thoughtfully, he shook his head. 

'It does not seem stolen any longer.'

He pushed himself up slowly, looking down, watching her face turning up to meet his eyes. Her hand found his, and she rose also, brushing against him, and he wondered once again if she knew what effect it had on him. 

Together they neared the house, and entered where Celebriníel had exited earlier, finding themselves in a darkened corridor, light at the end. 

It was as if something had changed while she was away, Celebriníel considered, still feeling the heat in her face, her body glowing similarly. 

Her father was now seated next to her mother, his arm resting around her waist, listening to Glorfindel with a smile. Halting with her in the doorway, it seemed Ereinion was also attempting to judge the mood of the company. 

Elrohir noticed them first, as he appeared to notice all and everything nowadays. 

'Ah, just arrived, my Lord?'

Ereinion nodded towards Celebriníel. 

'She found me in the garden.' 

'You were lost?'' Mîrlinde asked with a glimmer in her eyes. The garden lay to the side of the house, and guests were not likely to stray there by accident.

'Only a little,' Celebriníel joined in. 'He was recovered in time.'

Together they stepped into the chamber. Elrond rose and walked over to a decanter to pour a glass of wine. 

'We thought that perhaps Tirion's business kept you,' he said, returning to offer Ereinion the beverage. 

Accepting it gratefully, Ereinion shook his head. 

'It did not, even if I did not manage to bring a great deal of work to completion this afternoon either.' He made it sound like he was in jest, that it concerned something unimportant, but was well aware how preoccupied he exactly had been. 

'Oh?' Elrond replied, raising an eyebrow, but smiling also. Ereinion suspected him to have picked up on the wandering of his mind. 

There seemed no real need for an explanation, and yet he elucidated shortly, feeling he had to, before bringing the glass to his lips. 

'Did not have my mind on it.' 

Not replying vocally, Elrond bowed his head and seated himself on the armrest of the chair in which Celebrían still sat. Slipping an arm around Elrond's waist again, Celebrían locked her eyes on Ereinion's face. 

'Elernil mentioned your father visited you this afternoon? Before he ran off again, that is.'

Twirling the liquid in the glass, not truly tasting, Ereinion made an affirmative gesture. 

'He came to enquire after my absence.'

'Your parents are both well?'

'Quite,' Ereinion smiled. 'My father is busy with a new project in the City, and my mother always has her occupations.'

'Celebrimbor?'

He smiled at the thought of the small boy. He would have to take Celebriníel back to meet Celebrimbor and Nerdanel properly. And to see his handiwork. 

'Well also, though Nerdanel tells me she fears he shall fall out of his tree house soon, he is clambering about it so much. I admit it does not set me at ease.'

'I trust he will land on his feet. Elflings have a tendency to.'

And as she finished her sentence, Ereinion realised it had gone, his initial unease. He gave Celebrían a thankful nod and received a playful but understanding wink in reply, before the lady turned her attention to her husband. 

So many things she had to consider, he thought. Mediating in a situation such as this one...

A touch to his arm brought him to notice Mîrlinde beside him, offering him a delicacy. 

'We go to dinner soon, but nevertheless.'

Suddenly aware he had eaten only sporadically the past days he thankfully accepted. His eyes sought Celebriníel, found her nearby, and switched to Elrond. 

'You shall stay in Tirion?'

With a smile down at Celebrían, Elrond nodded and found her hand with his.

'We shall.'

Celebrían entwined her fingers with Elrond's and shot him a look that was hard to misinterpret. 

'It will be good to spend some time here.'

Chewing, not actually tasting, Ereinion raised an eyebrow, pretending not to notice. 

'Library?'

'Naturally,' she replied. 'Not to say my husband's library is a mere trifle. But the Great Library... And to see our family, of course. We seem to spend time here only so rarely.'

'Tirion has many ways to occupy you,' Ereinion remarked, succeeding in freeing his expression and tone of voice of either regret or amusement. 'I find it is near impossible to be here and not find yourself occupied in one manner or other.'

'I, for one, was planning on at least attempting to keep occupation at bay,' Elrond commented with a slight grin. 

'Still, if you change your mind, you can always visit the Council,' Elrohir offered, providing more wine. 

'Hmm, yes,' Ereinion replied, exchanging another glance with Celebriníel, who sent him a smile from the windowsill. 'Though keep in mind we shall be adjourning tomorrow. Then again, you would be certain to meet family there tomorrow.'

Elrond nodded. 

'You postpone until?'

'Six days from now.'

'Is that common?'

'It is not, but there is a betrothal ceremony that shall have many council members attending and occupied, and since there is no business that needs our immediate attention at present, the High King decided we adjourn for a longer period.'

Elrohir, who had shortly disappeared into an adjoining chamber, now returned, smiling invitingly.  

'Dinner?'

The party sounded their unanimous approval and entered the dining room, conversation continuing. 

'Betrothal ceremony?' Elrond asked, rounding the table to take a seat next to Celebrían. 

Ereinion nodded as he held out a chair for Celebriníel, motioning her to sit. Celebriníel felt hot, hoping it did not show too obviously. Fixing her eyes on her plate, she tried to will the blush from her cheeks. Ereinion seemed unaware and unperturbed as he spoke. 

'A cousin of my mother's.'

'You are to attend?'

Sitting down, Ereinion smiled awkwardly, brushing his hand against Celebriníel's unseen, giving her a slight indication he was all too well aware of how she felt. From the corner of his eyes he saw her look at him and instantly felt his ears redden.

'I shall be expected to put in an appearance, no doubt.' He looked at his plate a moment before meeting Elrond's eyes, deciding he would just pretend nothing was amiss. 'If she has no plans, and you are still in the City, perhaps Briníel would like to accompany me.'

Elrond frowned almost unnoticeably, before meeting his daughter's eyes. Whatever he found there made his expression clear again.

'If she wishes to, I do not believe there is a problem.' Celebriníel exchanged an excited glance with Ereinion. 

'You do realise you are then responsible for my daughter's introduction into Tirion society, Ereinion?' Celebrían teased as she arranged a napkin on her lap, taking the opportunity to place a comforting hand on Elrond's thigh. 

'Ah, no, truly, if you would come to the Council tomorrow it will very possibly remain in your hands. And I would think she needs no introduction.' Adding the last sentence, Ereinion cast fleeting look at Celebriníel once more, who returned his gaze with as much of a beaming smile as she dared to give him. 

Glorfindel, on the other side, exchanged an amused look with Celebrían, and even Elrond appeared to have a twinkle in his eyes. 

Before anyone could comment, the first platters of food were brought in, dinner commencing. 

Celebrían observed mostly, watching Elrond in conversation with Ereinion and Glorfindel, with Celebriníel providing the High Prince with small amounts of the foodstuff which had been brought in on the serving dishes.  Countless quick nods and quiet smiles were exchanged between them, and she didn't believe the blush ever left her daughter's cheeks. 

She suspected Elrond was very much aware of it, as were Glorfindel and Ereinion himself, together with, most likely, the rest of the table. 

The sound of doors closing within the house, and Elernil's cheerful voice speaking to someone. Mîrlinde rose with a smile and disappeared, only to return again almost instantly. Elrohir sat seemingly deep in thought. 

'Elernil will join us shortly.'

Her words caused Ereinion to look up from his food and monetarily halted conversation. 

'Errantry?'

She nodded and sat down. 

'For your father, apparently.'

Elrond sat back and met Celebrían's eyes. If there was something amiss it did not show from his demeanour. 

'We shall go to the Council then, tomorrow?'

'I believe I would enjoy that,' Celebrían smiled, as she looked at Celebriníel. 'Perhaps we can fit in a short visit to the Great Library early in the morning. Unless we must be at the Council very early?' 

The question was clearly directed at Ereinion, who had not expected it, and had been on the verge of starting a whispered conversation with Celebriníel. 

Elrond tried to hide his smile as he faced his friend for an answer as well.

'Not at all,' the High Prince replied, finding his voice just in time. 'I can safely say the meeting will not end before noon. You should be able to visit the library without difficulty.' 

Quick steps sounded from outside the room, and then Elernil entered, fastening a last button of his tunic. Sporting a radiant smile, he nodded at everyone and sat down, helping himself to the nearest plate. 

'No messages?' Elrohir asked, as he watched his son sip some wine Ereinion had poured him. 

Elernil nodded. 

'One message, the Lord Fingon invites everyone for luncheon tomorrow. After the adjourning.'

'Is there need for confirmation?'

With a shake of the head Elernil waited with taking a bite. 

'He assumes you will all come, and only wished to know when this is not the case.'

'You will wish to go?' Ereinion asked, fixing his eyes on some sugared fruit which stood a little removed, eyeing it wearily. 

'I suppose,' Elrond replied, throwing a questioning glance at Celebrían, who nodded, and smiled at Ereinion. 

'The times when I get the opportunity to meet your mother are too few as it is.'

'That sounds like something she would say,' the High Prince chuckled, casually picking some of the sweets he had just been contemplating. 

The dinner continued a while longer, without any exceptional occurrences. Afterwards there was more conversation, and it was well into the night when Ereinion announced his departure. Even if some of the atmosphere had been awkward earlier in the evening, it had vanished entirely as the night had progressed. It had likely come as close to times of old as possible. 

He said quick goodbyes, since they would soon meet again, and only when he halted by the door, ready to venture into the dark and wet night, did he quickly embrace Celebriníel, pressing his lips against her cheek, lingering there long enough for a whisper. 

'Be sure to be in your rooms in a little while.'

Had he not given a poignant look to accompany his words, she might have simply taken it as teasing advice. The situation as it was, she simply nodded, a now all too familiar blush colouring her cheeks. After a last squeeze of her hand and a general wish for a good night he slipped outside and disappeared into the darkness. 

Celebriníel lingered a little downstairs, but soon sought out her rooms upstairs. Lighting a small lantern, she made ready for bed, opening the glass doors of the balcony so she could hear the ever-continuing drip of the rain. And waited for a possible explanation to Ereinion's earlier words. 

'You have just gone insane,' he muttered to himself under his breath, climbing a convenient, but increasingly slippery ivy to reach the balcony. 'For all you know, this is accidentally Elrond's room, and he will chuck you off if you do not manage to fall down yourself...'

Arriving on the platform, he threw a leg over the balustrade and sighed with relief, and not only because he could observe Celebriníel through the open doors. Running his hands through his wet hair, he finally called out to her softly, and watched her rise and slowly near. Her eyes glimmered. 

'I thought you might come.'

He grinned. 

'Only for a moment.'

Her eyes seemed to take in his wet garments, and a worried expression crossed her features. 

'You do not wish to come inside?'

'I... I am not certain.' He realised his voice sounded his hesitation all too well. 

'Then why come?' she asked, almost smiling. 

'To take leave of my lady in private.'

Offering his hand with a smile, he pulled her closer, bringing her hand up to his lips, before proceeding to a fuller embrace, slipping his arms around her waist and slowly bringing his face closer to hers. With a happy sigh, Celebriníel placed her arms around his neck, as his lips began moving over her face. 

'Ereinion,' she whispered. 'Tomorrow, do you think...'

Before she could finish the sentence, he silenced her with a kiss, before moving back to her cheek and just below her ear. 

'Hush, lady.'

And then there was warmth, and the feeling of his lips on hers, fast becoming more feverous, and she pressed against him, lips keeping lips occupied. Gathering her even closer, Ereinion decided to simply give in.  With one arm around her waist, he let the other move through her hair. And then her fingers were on his skin, had slipped underneath his tunic and were resting on his back. 

'Not even your mother can save us now if your father catches us like this,' he whispered breathlessly. 

'I think we are long past saving, Ereinion,' she teased, but the movements of her hands had stopped.

'So shy you were at dinner,' he teased her in return. 'It was not so by the sea.'

She smiled. 

'I had been spoiled with your company too long, I believe. And here... all is different.'

He looked down at her seriously. 

'In a bad way?'

'No,' she shook her head. 'Just... different.'

Pulling her close for a last embrace, he had to restrain every urge in his body to be able to withdraw. So easily could he stay now, if she let him. So effortlessly everything could change even more drastically. Stepping away, he placed a hand on her cheekbone gently before bowing his head. Celebriníel looked down, almost guiltily, and then met his eyes again. If she blushed he could not see it in the dark. 

'Get you to bed,' he spoke softly, amusement in his tone.

Her voice echoed the sentiment.

'Goodnight, Ereinion.'

Chastely kissing her cheek, he squeezed her hand. 

'Goodnight, my lady.' 

Before she knew it, he had started his descent by means of the ivy, and then was gone, swallowed by the night. Staring into the dark for some time, Celebriníel at length turned and went inside, leaving the doors open. Even in bed, it took a long time before she stopped listening to the rain, and found sleep. 

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	34. Falling into Place

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

My eternal gratefulness to **Klose, because of the review-athon. *bows* *throws over many chocolate elfies* :D**

**LaJiggles: *fears you blowing up stuff and singing show tunes (especially loud and off key)* ;)**

**Fiona Rayne: I want to stress that you shouldn't do what the elfies do at home. Well, the climbing-ivy-part anyway. *cough* ;)**

**kalurien: *bows* You know I'm drawing this out just to tease you, don't you? ;P *huggles you* My thanks as always for the support. :)**

**Alena: I am taking my time (the pace of the story has suddenly slowed down a hundredfold, I fear), but do forgive me. I'm having too much fun. ;)**

**Earonn: I think the ivy plants in Tirion are used to some climbing. ;) Sadly I was not able to stop Elrond and Celebrían doing... uhm... bodily things, this chapter. *looks innocent***

My thanks go to everyone else, as always, **Emmica, ****Lalaith, **freak of nature**, **Losseniaiel**, ****Lady Celebwen, **Arabella Thorne**, **angelyami**, ****SperryDee, ****Ponytail Goddess, **Pulsarkat**, **Mara**, ****Sphinx, **Rose Red**, ****Escapistone, ****Silindro, and **Elarin**! (as well as you lurkers out there)**

My humbles apologies for taking so long (it seems to be becoming a habit). 

I also want to thank the people who are (still) reviewing _A Tale of Elrond and Celebrían_, especially **jojo** and **Isis.   
And those who nominated it for the Mithril Awards. You have no idea what it means to me. *huggles you all***

For **Isis**, because she poked me away from other writing to finally get this done. *huggles* Und Lass dich nicht unterkriegen! 

A bit of R at the beginning, more romancy stuff at the end. 

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**Chapter Thirty-Three     Falling into Place******

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Elrond had spent some time awake already, staring at the ceiling and pondering the coming day when he felt Celebrían stir beside him. She turned and moved closer, hiding her face against him, resting a hand on his chest. Warm lips against his skin chased the last of his gloomy thoughts away. 

'I think I must rise in not too long a while,' she told him softly, eyes closed. 

'Ah, do not leave yet,' he whispered into her hair, securing an arm around her.

The silver-haired lady chuckled and moved closer. 

'It is not difficult to recall times when I asked you the same,' she said against his lips, shortly before meeting them in a kiss. 

'Personally, I would rather recall moments in which neither of us had to leave,' Elrond replied when he was able to. 

With a smile Celebrían rested her head on his chest. 

'We have been lucky to have had so many of those moments the past years.'

Slowly moving his fingers through her hair, following the edge of her ear, he nodded. 

'I am spoiled forever.' 

She smiled and quietly kissed him again. 

'Will you accompany us to the library?'

As his fingers continued to comb through her silver tresses, Elrond considered it. 

'I believe,' he finally whispered, 'that I shall let you and Briníel go together. And you and I can go at a later time.'

'Very well,' she conceded, and he felt her breath tickle his skin, causing his entire body to react. 

'Ai, Celebrían, I fear one thing.'

Raising her head to meet his eyes she raised an eyebrow. 

'And what is this, meleth-nîn?'

Suddenly she could not disregard his hand on her side, slowly descending from her waist and travelling further down. 

'You shall be in that library, and you will do what you always did in my libraries, forget about your poor husband.'

He listened to her laughter as his hand slipped underneath her clothing. His touch quickly turned less innocent, but she pushed herself up, out of his reach, and looked down on him, blue eyes twinkling. 

'In that regard the Lord and Lady of Imladris were much alike, methinks. You shall have to make very certain I do not forget you, husband.'

Her nimble fingers touched the light garment she was wearing and caught it, pulling it over her head with a simple movement. 

Swallowing, Elrond pushed himself up as well. 

'I shall make very certain.' 

She pressed her mouth against his and pushed him back, arm around his neck, surrendering breath in anticipation of another physical merging. Lips locked, Elrond easily gave in to her, turning her onto her back and sinking into her not much later, losing himself in her warmth and mind, moving his hips against hers languidly. 

Celebrían drew him closer, pressing her lips against his neck, chuckling at his delighted groans. 

'Ai, melethril,' he said hoarsely, rolling his hips deftly, increasing pace. 'You will undo me.'

Pressing her thighs against him, Celebrían smiled. 

'That was my intention, El-nîn.'

Elrond chuckled and brought his lips to her ear, whispering endearments often spoken between them. They made her stomach flutter, bringing back the feeling she had experienced when they had only recently turned lovers. Throwing back her head, she arched her back to increase the movements of her hips with his. 

They had only had eyes for each other at the time, had always been so very close, body and mind. It had taken her a while to realise he was also the tall Elf-lord of whom was spoken in songs and stories, wise and hale, infinitely impressive, one of the mightiest of the Eldar still remaining in Middle-earth. It was as if she had forgotten that he was all that also, and not simply Elrond, her lover and husband, her friend alone. 

It stood in stark contrast with how she had experienced their early days together here on Aman, when both their insecurities had troubled them, when Elrond's healing had gone slowly, almost painfully. He had been quiet and serious, and it had been easy to see in him the imposing elf-lord for whom lore seemed so much more important. Easy to realise he was all those things, descendant of Melian, Elrond Peredhil, Elrond Eärendilion, wise Master Elrond...

Suddenly his voice called her attention back to the present despite its softness, his breath coming in bursts, fire inside flaming wildly. 

'Minui Elrond, hervenn a Celebrían.'

Locking eyes, she merely watched him a moment before kissing him urgently and pulling him closer, clinging desperately to him. And he did the same, allowing it to sweep him away, pulling her along, entirely one, uncertain, but also not caring where he ended and she began. 

That was how it was now, and it was as it should be. The past was not to haunt them any longer. 

--~~*~~--

Hand in hand they descended the stairs not long after, finding Mîrlinde and Celebriníel at the breakfast table. Both Elrohir and Elernil had already departed. Observing the blush on his daughter's cheeks Elrond chose not to mention it and simply kissed her on the head before seating himself next to Celebrían, who had already started a conversation with Mîrlinde on the impending visit to the Great Library. 

'You are nervous, meluihên?' he asked his daughter quietly.

She smiled at him. 

'Perhaps I am, a little. My night was restless.'

'I would not worry,' he told her reassuringly_. As soon as you have Ereinion by your side, you shall no doubt forget about any worries you have now. 'Enjoy your visit to the library; it shall take your mind of matters.'_

'No doubt,' she grinned, and he gave her a quick wink, realising all too well any child of Celebrían and himself was likely to be comfortable in a library. 

Breakfast went by in comfortable conversation, and mother and daughter announced their departure, effectively leaving Elrond and Mîrlinde at the breakfast table with the promise they would return before noon so they could continue on to the Council halls together. 

Elrond sat back and folded his hands before meeting Mîrlinde's eyes; she appeared to be avoiding him purposely. 

'You have no wish to speak to me of it?'

She stared at him a moment, surprise clearly visible on her face. 

'It is so obvious?'

With a smile Elrond rose and offered her his arm as he made for an exit leading into the garden. 

'I was not certain last night, but I did notice my son's deep contemplation,' he said, holding a door for her. 'And I did also observe your discomfort just now.' 

'You were always too perceptive, Master Elrond,' she smiled at him, though her eyes remained serious. 

They had known each other when he had still been in Middle-earth, she had been born a century after Celebrían's departure. At the time, he had noticed the deep friendship that developed between the young Elf-lady and his youngest son. But only much later had he realised how much Elrohir depended on her, though the news of their union had not surprised him when it had reached him on Aman.  

'Celebrían once called it one of my many vices,' he replied with a chuckle, placing a comforting hand on her arm. 

She shook her head. 

'I think in combination with wisdom it is not a vice, exactly.'

He smiled and averted his gaze. 

'I am vain enough already, lady, without you complimenting me so. If I can help in any way, I will gladly do so.'

Mîrlinde swallowed and stared into the distance. 

'I am uncertain whether we are not merely parents worrying over matters that are not worth being troubled over.'

Elrond made an understanding gesture. 

'I have recently found that it is only too easy to worry where there is little need to.'

She nodded contemplatively. 

'Perhaps you would observe Elernil, and reassure me there is no need to worry.'

Smiling, Elrond bowed his head. 

'In turn, I believe I shall ask the same of you.'

Mîrlinde halted upon reaching a bench underneath an ancient oak. 

'I have not seen anything to indicate Ereinion's feelings for Celebriníel are in any way dishonest.'

The smile on Elrond's lips weakened slightly as he watched her sit down. 

'I would not dare doubt his honesty. It is, perhaps, more a fear on my side that they will be confronted with sides of him, matters from Ereinion's past, which they will be unable to deal with.' 

He met her eyes and found more understanding in them than he had expected. 

'You are aware there are quite some years between Elrohir and myself, my Lord, much as there are years between you and your wife. I do not deny that Ereinion and Celebriníel are in an entirely different situation, but I do wish to say that perhaps those years do not matter, and that even if they do, they shall learn to cope with them, in their own way, as Elrohir and I have, as you and the Lady Celebrían no doubt have.'

There was no way he could deny the truth in those words. There were fewer years between him and Celebrían than there were between Mîrlinde and Elrohir, but it was a trivial point to make. Still standing, he gazed down at her and shook his head with a smile. 

'As I have found Celebrían often wiser than myself, I find my son has chosen a lady well able to preserve him from foolishness. You are wise, my lady, and most likely correct.' 

She smiled. 

'Now it is you who flatter me, Master Elrond.'

'Not inappropriately so, I dare say.' 

She rose and bowed her head, her entire demeanour more at ease than before. 

'I will trust your judgement.'

Elrond bowed his head in reply, catching her hand and shaking it gently. 

'I will keep an eye on him.'

'Thank you.'

--~~*~~--

Celebrían pulled her daughter's arm through hers as they crossed the bustling streets of Tirion on their way back to Elrohir's house. The coming week would be one of festivities, and Tirion's inhabitants were all busy with the last preparations, the atmosphere everywhere one of laughter and cheerfulness. With great discipline she had managed to pull herself away from discussion and books of lore to be able to return to Elrohir's house, and subsequently the Council, at a decent time. 

Celebriníel rested her head against her mother's shoulder a moment. 

'I am so nervous... So very afraid I shall do something terribly embarrassing. What if they do not like me? What if Ereinion realises I am not suited for this? I know it is silly, Nana, but I cannot keep those thoughts away.'

Gently squeezing her daughter's arm, Celebrían smiled. Her daughter had been uneasy in the library, and she had suspected the Council to be the reason for this. 

'I felt similarly when I became Lady of Imladris,' she told her daughter, 'suddenly having to step forward to stand beside your father was no small matter. As for embarrassing moments, I had quite my share of those even when I was many years older than you are now. No one remembers, except perhaps your father, and he only does so because he found them so terribly amusing. You must not worry, meluihên.' 

'I know...' Celebriníel whispered, bowing her head. 'But still.'

'Oh come here, you silly girl,' Celebrían chuckled, and caught Celebriníel in her arms as they halted. The younger lady buried her face in her mother's clothing. Stroking her hair, Celebrían shook her head. 'Ereinion... well, I somehow suspect you are quite aware of his feelings towards you.'

Blushing and looking up, Celebriníel managed a smile. 

'Yes.'

'You know how he dislikes the exposure he has as a High Prince. If anyone understands your apprehension, it would be him.'

'I suppose so.'

'And remember that there are not many in Tirion who are at this point aware of what exactly is between the two of you. As far as they are concerned, you are merely visiting the great library, and perhaps a friend of your father's. There are few who shall think otherwise.'

With a sigh Celebriníel released her mother and they continued on their way. 

'You are aware your father is very nervous about all this is well?' Celebrían offered. 

'No,' Celebriníel said with a raised eyebrow. 'If so, he does not show it.' 

'Your father is very good at hiding what he truly thinks and feels sometimes,' Celebrían smiled. 'But he is possibly as anxious about visiting the Council as you are. For both your sakes, I think.' 

'Why would he be nervous for himself?' 

Looking out before her, Celebrían seemed to contemplate her answer. 

'When he arrived on Aman, he was troubled by many things. Middle-earth clung to him, you see, as it does to most who have lived there for a long time. Your sister's choice was hard for us to deal with... He had lost his feeling of purpose and had to recover it. Many times he was invited to join the Council, but he always declined. In a way he fears that this was not the right choice, and that at some point he will find out that indeed it was an error not to join.'

'What do you think?'

'I think your father knows himself better than he believes he does. The Council would not give him the kind of purpose he is looking for.'

'What would?' Celebriníel whispered, meeting her mother's eyes. 

Celebrían smiled mysteriously. 

'He called Imloth purpose once. And once he had found Imloth, everything went from there.'

Celebriníel pondered that as they entered the gates of the house, finding her father sitting on a bench, apparently having spent the morning in the garden. Elrond caught Celebrían's hand and kissed her with a smile as she sat down beside him. If there was any nervousness in him, Celebriníel was not able to recognise it as such. 

He looked up at her and extended a hand. 

'Did you enjoy it, meluihên?'

She returned her father's beaming smile weakly as she sat down as well. Celebrían answered for her. 

'She is nervous.'

Shaking his head shortly, Elrond touched her cheek. 

'Whatever for?'

'I am being silly,' she admitted. 

'Not silly,' he returned, taking a white flower and putting it in her hair. 'Just not yet aware of what truly matters.' 

Gratefully she allowed him to pull her into his arms. 

'Thank you, Ada,' she whispered against his shoulder. 

She felt him shake his head. 

'There is no need, Briníel.'

As they both withdrew, Elrond met her eyes a moment, conveying so many things at once; she could not help but smile also. 

Looking back at Celebrían, Elrond nodded. 

'I shall go and ask Mîrlinde if she is ready, and we shall go.' 

--~~*~~--

As he stood listening to some final deliberations of two fellow councillors about matters that had now been postponed, Ereinion continued to scan the hall for newcomers, his heart jumped each and every time he saw anything that even mildly resembled a glimmer of silver hair. He suddenly recognised Nerdanel in the crowd that had started to spread itself over the large hall. As she moved past some elves, he could not help smiling as he saw the small boy who walked timidly at her side. 

Celebrimbor noticed him at almost the same time and laughed as he let go of the Elf-lady's hand and sped across the marble floor, throwing himself into Ereinion's awaiting arms. 

'I thought you were not here,' he whispered softly, locking his arms around the High Prince's neck. 

'I would never have asked you and your Daernaneth to come if I was not going to attend, would I?' he returned as he held the small boy close. 

'No.'

Tickling him a little, Ereinion finally settled him on his arm and greeted Nerdanel, who had reached them. 

'I am glad you came.'

She nodded thoughtfully.

'You know how I worry for his sake.' 

Smiling comfortingly, Ereinion patted Celebrimbor's small chest, making the boy giggle. 

'There is no need.'

'For which I am grateful to you.' 

He inclined his head with a serious expression. 

'I failed him once. It will not happen again.' 

Breathing deeply, Nerdanel scanned their surroundings and changed the subject. 

'Elrond and Celebrían have not yet arrived?' 

He shook his head. 

'Not yet, but no doubt they shall be here soon.' 

The Elf-lady gave him an amused look. 

'No doubt.' 

Ereinion chuckled knowingly and turned to Celebrimbor again. 

'Tell your Daernaneth to stop teasing me.' 

'Nooo,' the elfling replied with a giggle. 

'No?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Celebrimbor shook his head and pressed his lips together as if to stress he would do no such thing. 

'Well, so much for your help,' Ereinion replied, pretending slight offence. 'I suppose I shall not introduce you to her then.'

'Who?' Celebrimbor asked curiously. 

'Oh, no one, a lady,' Ereinion replied offhandedly. 

'Your lady?' the boy tried inquisitively. 

'I doubt you would be interested.'

'I am!' Celebrimbor protested. 'Is she beautiful?'

Lifting him up in the air Ereinion laughed and gave him a wink. 

'I believe you shall like her.'

It was a while later; Nerdanel and Celebrimbor had gone to speak with his parents, that a well-known voice reached Ereinion's ears. He still stood near the same group of council members as before, listening to their conversation initially, but his mind had simply been somewhere else, he had not been able to participate in their seemingly ever-continuing debate. Turning to give a short nod to indicate he was leaving them to it, he strode towards the centre of the hall. There, he simply stood; hands behind his back, watching Elrond, whose voice he had immediately recognised, introduce Celebriníel to someone. 

None of them had noticed him yet, and as he stood a little removed, simply observing, he was glad for it. Celebriníel was dressed in a bluish grey, her silver hair loosely braided and adorned with several white flowers. 

Watching her smile, exchanging some words of greeting, he considered how obvious it had to be he loved her to everyone. For here he stood, in the middle of the hall, undeniably staring at her. Yet, when he looked around, no one seemed to pay particular attention to him. 

Feeling someone nudge his shoulder, he looked beside him and found Glorfindel broadly smiling.

'She seems nervous.'

Having expected some jest, Ereinion had to adjust to the observation his friend had made. 

'Nervous?'

'Truly, Ereinion, this is quite an occasion for her.'

He nodded. 

'Yes, yes, of course.'

'Well?'

The High Prince looked at him questioningly.

'Well what?'

Raising his eyebrows meaningfully, Glorfindel nodded into Celebriníel's direction. Ereinion followed his gaze and reddened up to his ears. 

'Certainly, I'll go.' 

'Anytime soon?'

'Be quiet, Glorfindel.'

Leaving the Elf-lord chuckling, Ereinion made his way over. 

Elrond was the first to take notice of him and Ereinion was adamant not to let any of his uncertainties show as he met his friend's eyes. He was relieved to be greeted with a smile and extended arms. Catching them, Elrond pulled him into an embrace. 

'Meldir.'

Withdrawing, Ereinion smiled.

'Who would have thought it? You, here.'

'Indeed,' Elrond replied with a grin. 'Merely visiting, I assure you.' 

They both smiled knowingly, and Ereinion went on to catch Celebrían's hand, even though his eyes had already found Celebriníel's. 

'Lady,' he managed to whisper, as he released Celebrían and caught her daughter's hand instead. 

'My lord,' she replied, smiling up at him, a blush rapidly appearing on her cheeks. 

Keeping himself from entwining his fingers with hers, or touching his lips to her hand, he simply stared at her. 

'You have flowers in your hair.'

'Yes,' she smiled broadly. 'My father's idea.' 

He cupped one of the blooms in his hand, and then brought his face closer to catch its scent. Celebriníel blushed even more vehemently. 

'Ereinion...'

'What?' he replied with a grin, looking down at her. 'Did you not recently tell me, in a rather similar situation to continue breathing? I advise you to do the same, presently.'

Taking a deep breath to keep herself from laughing out loud, Celebriníel gave him an amused but disbelieving look. 

'I cannot believe you said that.'

He grinned smugly. 

'I cannot believe you are truly here.'

Glorfindel had crossed his arms and was amusedly watching Ereinion and Celebriníel forgetting the rest of Tirion, as an Elf came up beside him, observing the same scene. 

'Glorfindel?'

The golden-haired Elf-lord looked at the Elf beside him. 

'My Lord?'

'You must assist me in a small matter.'

'Of course.' 

'At this very moment, right across the hall from us, they have only recently entered, Elrond and Celebrían, unless I am very much mistaken?'

'You are not mistaken.'

'Silver-haired young lady, their daughter Celebriníel?'

Glorfindel made an affirmative gesture. The other Elf studied the group which stood a little removed. 

'Now, it could very well be me engaging in the largest blunder I have yet made in this lifetime, but that dark-haired Elf-lord that stands with the young lady, apparently so interested in her hair?' 

Managing with extreme effort to keep his face straight, Glorfindel cleared his throat. 

'I see who you mean, my lord.' 

The Elf bit his lip mock-pensively. 

'Is he not my son?'

Pressing his lips together a moment, Glorfindel was finally able to mumble an answer. 

'I do believe he is.'

Fingon nodded. 

'For a moment I was truly doubting my senses. I am grateful for your assistance.'

'Do not mention it, my lord.'

Still unaware of those watching, Ereinion and Celebriníel only had eyes for each other. Clearing his throat, Elrond indicated to Ereinion he should at least pretend to notice the rest of the hall, and the High Prince quickly offered his arm to Celebriníel. 

'I suppose we should act as if we are conversing about normal matters.'

She nodded with a smile.

'It would be best.'

Changing his tone to a more general one, Ereinion slowly guided her into the hall. 

'I heard you visited the library, my lady?' 

She nodded with a smile. 

'With my mother, I did.'

Ereinion smiled obligingly, but there was something in his eyes when he met Celebriníel's that made her believe they were involved in a kind of private joke. 

'I was unaware you had an interest in linguistics. Esvalgor told me of your visit a moment ago and seemed very amused.'

Deciding to play along, Celebriníel turned serious as well. 

'It is very curious how modern Sindarin evolved. Discussing how much Quenya has possibly influenced it is very interesting.'

'No doubt Master Esvalgor gave you an extensive explanation of his theory that one day Aman shall have a common language, without the divisions now made between the Elvish languages that are spoken here?'

'Yes, he did indeed. The amount of data he has collected to support his theory is staggering.'

'He has had the time,' Ereinion said with a wink. 

'My mother disagrees with him though,' Celebriníel commented. 

'She does?'

'There are certain standards that have to be met before languages can simply merge, she has studied the Mannish languages enough to have seen it happen before. It will not happen here, she thinks.'

'Hmm,' Ereinion mused. 'I often wonder if either Sindarin or Quenya will simply disappear after a long time. Not very likely either.'

Celebriníel nodded. 'You speak Quenya in councils?'

'Sometimes, yes. Official documents tend to be in Quenya, but it seems to be a practise which is slowly declining. And it does not truly matter; all speak both languages, if not more. It is the upside of having a council which consists of Wise Loremasters. Though I do suspect some of my fellow council members take a particular delight in commenting in Quenya when the speaker is addressing them in Sindarin...' 

While talking, he appeared  to have located someone on the other end of the hall, but did not seem pleased.

'Is something wrong?' Celebriníel asked softly. 

'I am wondering whether I would wish you to meet... Perhaps we should wait until later. Join me in the garden?' he whispered, catching her hand, his eyes still on the other side of the hall, from where someone appeared to be waving at them. 

Waiting for her consenting nod, he pulled her along, crossing the hall quickly and slipping outside through large glass doors. 

Ereinion listened to Celebriníel's soft chuckle as they descended the stone steps into the salubrious green below. 

They had not been alone in leaving the crowded hall, were not the first who had moved outside, but still the gardens seemed different, as if the politics of inside were not allowed to be taken out here. Ereinion knew where to go, leading the way underneath the overgrown pathways into a quiet part of the garden. There they dropped themselves onto the grass beneath a large tree. 

Celebriníel laughed. 

'Who are we fleeing from?'

Smiling, folding his legs underneath him, he played with the hem of her dress.

'I was not quite ready to meet my mother's scrutinising gaze yet.'

Seriously she looked at him.

'No?'

'No.'

Again she laughed. 

'You shall have to meet it in not too long a while though, I believe.'

All too well aware of the truth in her words, Ereinion raised an amused eyebrow. He realised he was being unkind to his mother, hiding from her, all the while well aware Celebriníel's presence at his side had to delight her. 

Placing a hand on his knee, Celebriníel shook her head. 'It is merely strange to think of you, sitting in the gardens of houses, avoiding your mother. And you make for a rich sight in the grass, council attire and all.' 

'I would not mind making it a habit, sitting in gardens with you,' he grinned, stretching out a hand to touch her cheek. Catching it, and pressing her lips against the palm, Celebriníel met his eyes. 

'Is it not strange that inside, we are afraid to brush by each other too closely, while here it does not seem to matter, even though probably the same people can see us?' 

'Many of Tirion's halls make me feel that way, as if there can be nothing but duty and seriousness in them.' Ereinion touched her hair and let a strand of silver slip through his fingers. 'Perhaps that is exactly why there are so many gardens.' 

He watched Celebriníel move closer, perhaps too close. Even if it was so, he remained silent, staying where he was. And instead of moving away, she stayed as well, bowing her head before looking back up at him. Catching her hand, he felt her rest her head against his shoulder. She was comfortably warm, and he was amazed at the peacefulness, the fact that nothing mattered now. Just the two of them, here, now. 

'I plan to go to the library again tomorrow,' Celebriníel whispered. 

'I could come,' he replied, as he rested his head against hers. 

Her fingers followed his hand, the knuckles, slipping between his fingers, exploring. 

'If you have time.'

Ereinion nodded. 

'I shall make time.' 

She looked up at him, so very close, and he swallowed, before closing the distance between his lips and hers. He felt her lips open for him, joining in the fevered kiss, her hot tongue meeting his as her hand moved to his cheek. She softly moaned and he placed a hand on her waist to pull her closer still. 

An excited holler reached their ears at the exact same moment and they moved apart guiltily, both their faces aflame. 

'Ereinion!' A small body threw itself into Ereinion's lap and squealed happily. 'Your Adar said I was to find you.'

Swallowing dryly Ereinion cleared his throat. 

'Did he now?'

Celebrimbor nodded. 

'Yes.'

Glimmering eyes went over to Celebriníel and the elfling smiled at her, then turned back to Ereinion.

'She is very pretty.'

Caught up in a sudden choking-fit, Ereinion closed his eyes and took a while before meeting Celebriníel's again, hearing her laugh together with the boy sitting in his lap. 

'Brimbor, meet Celebriníel. Briníel, meet Celebrimbor.'

'Suilad, Celebrimbor,' she smiled, meeting Ereinion's eyes before extending a hand. The boy met it eagerly. 

'Suilad.'

He then looked up at Ereinion again. 

'I had to tell you that you were soon to leave to have lunch.'

'I understand.' 

Grinning mischievously, the boy pushed himself up and looked down at the two others. 

'Are you married?' 

Ereinion rose as well, extending a hand to Celebriníel and helping her up. 

'No.'

Dancing in front of them as they began walking back, Celebrimbor met Ereinion's eyes. 

'Betrothed?' 

'Not yet.'

'Will you be soon?'

Looking at Celebriníel, who smiled and blushed, Ereinion grinned. 

'Perhaps.' 

'Can I come?'

'Only if you promise to be a nice, behaved elfling.' 

'Do I have to?'

'Yes...'

Exacting some pressure on Ereinion's hand, which she had not released since he had offered it to her while helping her up, Celebriníel met her lover's eyes. He shook his head with a smile. Then, suddenly, there emerged a mischievous look in his eyes and he halted, pulling her close and finding her lips again as his arm slipped around her waist. 

Celebrimbor turned and stared at them, then wrinkled his nose. 

'Eeew...' 

Celebriníel could not help smiling against Ereinion's lips as she felt the High Prince quietly laugh as well. Celebrimbor sighed and shook his head. 'You will have to get married very soon now...'

He was wise enough to run off giggling before Ereinion could catch him. 

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Minui Elrond, hervenn a Celebrían: Firstly Elrond, husband of Celebrían. 

Esvalgor = it's what you get when filling in 'scholar' at the barrowdowns.com name generator and fiddling around with it a bit

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	35. Decisions

High Princes of Tirion  
by Nemis

A/N:** Nihar**, I have no idea what Alian means in Elvish. She sort of tagged along from an original story I was writing at the time and I was too lazy to change the name. ;)

Bah, that took far too long to write. A thousand apologies to you all, and my eternal gratefulness for the reviews. *throws over deluxe chocolate elfies*

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Chapter Thirty-Four Decisions

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Listening half-heartedly to the conversations taking place near them, Elrond, standing beside Fingon, let his eyes go over the people in the halls, not truly searching for anyone in particular, merely taking it all in. 

'You never regret it then?' the Elf-lord asked him casually. 

Pensively Elrond shook his head. 

'I... Even this morning, before setting foot here, I was fearful of regretting my choice not to join the Council as soon as I crossed the threshold. But now... it is not what I seek.'

Slowly nodding, Fingon folded his arms behind his back. 

'I never expected Ereinion was unwilling to join. In the end he might have found his place here, but in the process he did not fail to make it clear to me, remind me, that he is of another generation.' He looked at Elrond. 'As are you.' 

Smiling, the former lord of Imladris made it a point to fix his eyes on something in front of him. 

'It seems difficult to say whether this is good or bad.'

'Perhaps... We went to Middle-earth to help our kin, out of loyalty, but also in search of freedom, and longing for a sense of power. You took leadership out of necessity. There was no one else, and you were the ones upon which it fell. I would think these are better motives. You always had the best for your people in mind.' 

'We knew our moments of pride as well,' Elrond commented blankly. 

'A vestige of Noldorin blood,' Fingon replied with a smile. 'I cannot be too dark in thought concerning it, not seeing the boy here.' He nodded into the direction of Celebrimbor, who had shortly before entered the halls again from the gardens. 

The child's eyes focussed on them a moment, and it seemed he intended to come over, to report on his errantry perchance, but a call from the other side of the hall demanded his attention, and with a beaming smile he responded to his great-uncles. 

Elrond smiled and nodded, turning his mind and the conversation to other matters. 

'Elernil, he ran some errands for you yester eve?'

'Ah,' the other answered, 'merely the one you received, and I gave it to him shortly before I left Ereinion's halls.'

'I see.'

Observing Elrond quietly, Fingon took a deep breath. 

'Might this have to do with messages which take longer to deliver than they are supposed to?' 

Fixing his eyes on Celebrimbor, Elrond bit his lower lip. 

'If his only errantry yesterday evening was yours, it has. It has been some time when I was in Tirion last, but even I am aware a journey from Ereinion's halls to Elrohir's house does not take the time Elernil designated for it last night. His parents worry.'

'Parents always do. Have they asked him?'

'I believe they are hesitant to enquire into it.' 

'Do you wish me or Ereinion to...?'

Silently Elrond shook his head and then gave Fingon a thankful smile. 

'I shall speak to him myself.'

Fingolfin and Finarfin stood together, having just ended one of their private meetings. It had been the elder of the brothers who had called to the elfling, and who now, a broad smile on his face, watched the boy near, a hand held out in greeting. 

'Suilad, Celebrimbor.' 

Eyes glimmering, nothing of nervousness in them, Celebrimbor bowed his head and placed his hand in Fingolfin's. 

'Suilad, hîr-nîn.' He bent his head shortly towards Finarfin as well, receiving a pleased nod in acknowledgement. 

'Visiting the gardens?' Fingolfin asked, observing the child smile even more vehemently. 

'I was on errantry.'

The brothers exchanged amused looks. 

'For whom, pray tell?' Finarfin informed, more ready to place his undivided attention on the boy than to surrender it to some of the councillors who would no doubt soon start their bids for his ear. 

'The Lord Fingon,' Celebrimbor answered importantly, grey eyes too serious for his years. 

'And is it a secret what it concerns?'

Grinning, Celebrimbor shook his head. 

'I had to tell Ereinion he had to come in again.'

From where he stood, mere steps away from both entering the halls and fleeing back into the gardens, Ereinion had no trouble observing and understanding the exchange between Celebrimbor and his grandfather. Self-consciously he held Celebriníel's hand still in his, and only a soft squeeze made him avert his gaze to meet her eyes. 

'I have said before that everything had changed.'

She nodded. 'Yes.'

'If we go in there now it might change.' He seemed intent to bring across the message. 'Are you certain you wish this? Otherwise we could simply continue in relative quiet until you...' 

Releasing his hand, for one dreadful moment he thought she would leave him, but instead she took his arm and smiled. 

'Lead the way.'

As they re-entered the hall, both were aware of faces turning into their direction. Ereinion wondered how many would discard Celebriníel and her presence at his side as of no importance. Tirion had always seemed to believe its youngest High Prince would not marry, and at this moment, if only to protect the young lady beside him, he wished they would continue to believe it. 

Raising his head, he was confronted with Fingolfin's eyes. 

He was uncertain what he had expected to be there, but besides amusement there was nothing but kindness in his grandfather's features. 

With deliberate steps he led Celebriníel towards the two Elf-lords, only meeting the High King's gaze when they halted. 

'My lords.'

Finarfin smiled and stepped forward at once, while beside him Ereinion felt Celebriníel release his arm. Surprised, he watched her embrace her great-grandfather. 

'You resemble your mother more each time I see you.'

Celebriníel laughed and blushed, curtsying to Fingolfin. 

'It is good to meet you both again, my lords.' 

'I trust my grandson has been behaving himself properly?' Fingolfin asked sincerely, nodding towards Ereinion. 

'Very much so,' she assured him, glancing back at her companion. 'I could wish for no better guide to the gardens.'

It was not long before Fingon came to inform them they would be departing, and the party left the Council Halls behind them shortly after, making for the halls of the second High Prince of the City. Lunch was already waiting for them outside in the garden. It was rain that chased them inside at length, but it mattered little; the meal had come to its end and the table had merely been used as a place to sit and talk. 

Helping to gather the last chairs and bringing them inside, Ereinion considered the weather. 

'Most likely it will clear again in a moment.'

His mother came to stand beside him in the doorway as Fingon led their guests inside. Thoughtfully she nodded. 

'Most likely.'

They stood silently like that a time, only the two of them remaining, the voices of the others travelling down the corridor. Neither of them truly heard what they said. At last the lady of the house shook her head. 

'I am beginning to understand what you spoke of before.'

Ereinion looked at her. 

'What I felt then... the situation seemed much darker at the time.'

'Indeed,' she smiled. 'But for me all falls into place only now. I could only guess, but seeing her, seeing you...'

Bowing her head she seemed amused. 

Ereinion swallowed. 

Ever since he could remember it had been so, here on Aman as in Middle-earth. Her opinions he valued highly. And yet for some reason he did not want to raise the matter. Still, never had he allowed fear of a possible answer stop his posing a question yet. 

'I...' He shook his head. 'I would ask you what you think of her, but somehow the reply would not matter.'

Catching his hand she smiled to him. 

'I suspect it would matter; but I doubt you would allow it to influence your actions.'

He grinned and looked out over the gardens. 

'Perhaps.'

Releasing his hand she took his arm instead, speaking softly, her words meant for him alone. 

'How can I think anything but highly of her? Even if I knew nothing of her, the small fact that she has won your heart counts for everything. She makes you beam by merely being at your side.'

Breathing deeply, he faced her, studying her expression before stepping closer and embracing her tightly. 

'I fear I can make her very unhappy.'

'Then you must make certain you do not, Ereinion Ion-nîn,' she whispered back. 

Sitting in the window, Celebriníel's thoughts were far away. It had gone well. Beforehand she had contemplated how awkward it could have become; the closeness of the families could have very well diminished completely with the knowledge or even the mere suspicion of what was between Ereinion and her. 

But instead it had been just as she remembered these occasions from many years ago to be, when they had stayed in Tirion after Ereinion had joined the Council. The atmosphere had been light, everyone had seemed at ease, and never had she felt as if anything lingered between them tacitly. The past was too important to let a possible future influence it. 

The only thing she considered she might have wanted, while fearing when it would happen at the same time, was to speak with Ereinion's mother. They had spoken of course, but in the most casual of ways, nothing more. She found she was not able to tell whether the Elf-lady suspected anything, or if she knew. 

After Fingon's fall, his wife had remained with their son for a long time. Once, Celebriníel had even heard that it had only been after Gil-galad's death that the Elf-lady had left the shores of Lindon and exchanged them for the busy streets of Tirion. No doubt there was much she could learn. And they were alike, mother and son, everything in their manner emphasised it. 

There were things she wished explained, and was hesitant to ask Ereinion himself. Her father might be able to tell her, but the two of them seemed to have little time for talk nowadays. For some reason she could not fathom she suspected it might be less difficult to speak to the Elf-lady. 

Possibly because her thoughts were close to him, Ereinion's hand on her arm did not startle her. Looking up, she saw him smile while reaching for a strand of her hair. 

'Suilad, lady.'

Before she could give a reply he offered his hand and pulled her up and along. They met no one in the house as they moved through it, heard not a sound, and finally slipped outside, apparently unnoticed, into the gardens, where she found the rain had stopped. Though in front of the window she had not paid much attention to the weather. She looked at Ereinion as they walked past the ornately shaped gates, leaving the grounds of the house behind them. 

'Will they not mind we have gone?'

He smiled and entwined his fingers with hers. 

'I hope your parents trust me enough not to worry. If we do not take such moments every now and then, we shall never have time to talk.'

She swung his hand a little, and they continued in silence a while. Ereinion's worries increased with every step they took. If they were to speak, many things would have to be pronounced, matters he had long tried to keep to himself, things he was loathe to share for fear of in any way burdening her with them. Yet, if he did pronounce it all, he would know where he stood... Where _ they_ stood, together or alone.

'I do not know what I can offer you.' The remark came as unexpectedly as thunder in a clear sky, to the both of them. 

'What do you mean?' Celebriníel asked, meeting his eyes. 

Ereinion smiled unconvincingly. 

'You are aware of the nightmares.'

'Yes. Of course.' For a moment their thoughts were both on the same moment, a morning, in a garden, an unexpected visit. Bodies close, worry turning into relief, lips meeting skin. 

He shook his head. 

'I am not certain whether I can protect you from them.'

Clear. To the point. _Do I have some unexplainable wish to end this before it has even truly begun?_

They started to walk again, and Celebriníel fixed her eyes on the grass beneath her feet. 

'You do not know if they will cease?' 

Equally to the point. He had not expected any less of her. 

'There is no saying.'

'You have these nightmares often?'

He smiled weakly. Actually, he did not think it qualified as a smile at all. 

'Always too often.' 

Expecting her to continue walking, he stepped forward, but she halted, suddenly very close, looking up at him. Too close, perhaps. There was no way to avoid anything now. 

'Yes, but you are aware of what I meant,' she told him softly. 

He nodded, looking at their entwined hands, unable to face her. He should have expected her to take this seriously. Part of him was glad she did. 

'Not as often as in the past.' 

Locking her eyes on their hands as well, Celebriníel entwined her fingers more closely with his. 

'How could I mind sharing them with you? If it helps you...' 

'I just wish you to know what... I mean... I... It could make you unhappy.' 

Unexpectedly he looked up, meeting her eyes, again taken aback by how near she stood. Exasperatedly he shook his head, and she brought up a hand and caught his tunic as if she feared he would move away. 

'I am aware of the possibility.' 

There was nothing in her tone which told him if she had decided how it was to be already. It could mean she was undecided. Or had made her choice, and was merely protecting him. Looking down, he waited for her to release him and continue walking. Their hands were the last link between them before she let go and walked several paces ahead. 

'How did they start, did you have them always?' she asked, halting, looking at him over her shoulder. 

Nothing of pity in her eyes, nothing of dislike. No judgement of any kind, but it could merely be a matter of time. But he had started this, and he would bring it to completion. 

'No,' he whispered, reaching for her hand again. 'Come.'

Brushing past her, leading her onwards, they climbed the last stretch of hill together, and suddenly looked out over a green meadow, its grasses swaying in the wind, the sun overhead, clear in the blue sky, as if there had never been the rain of before. Ereinion shook his head as he pondered the space. 

'Ever since I was very small I remembered certain things, dreams, fragments, not making much sense, not mattering. But it was on a day when I had been playing with some friends. We wandered here, I think. It was warm. One of those typical summer afternoons, much like this one. And then I found myself on this hill, and saw a great army stretched out before me. There was a vast plain, and it was dusty and cold and it brought a coldness to my heart that felt familiar. Somehow, somewhere, there was something lurking in the dark, and it was my responsibility. As with the other images I had seen before, I did not understand. But it was then that the nightmares started.' 

His voice had lowered to turn into a whisper. 

'Do you remember it all?' she asked in the same quiet way, afraid to interrupt. 

He nodded. 

'Over the years I learnt of it all. Little by little I began to remember.'

'What is worst?' 

'The end.' 

She swallowed and lowered herself into the grass. He followed not long after. There was no need for her to ask further. In truth he had long wished to speak of it. The only thing that had stood against sharing it with her until now, in his mind at least, had been the possibility that she would send him away after hearing it, even though she had almost seen it herself, and had come to him rather then gone away. 

'It is the moment just before everything becomes silent. My limbs hurt, sound is everywhere, confusing and nauseating and loud, so loud. It feels like a violation, perhaps it is, of a most terrible kind. Then my spirit flees, and that is the silence, and it is just as horrible. The contrast is too great.' 

'Is it painful?' 

'Sometimes. There are times when I swear I feel my...' He swallowed and stared out before him, feeling an echo of the sensation in his spine. 'Strange that of those long years we spent there, and all the horrid things we went through, that is the thing I remember most vividly. Or not strange at all...' 

Neither of them spoke, but he did not dare to look at her. He clung to the fact that she had not risen, had not left. Yet... 

'When I came to Tirion... You dreamed of this?'

He nodded. 

'If I concentrate, the nightmares can be kept at bay for a time. I lost my concentration.'

'Because of me.'

'No.'

He noticed then that he had been watching her, and that only now she looked back at him. 

'Did you not speak of the importance of the truth before?'

Shaking his head he rested back into the grass and growled as he rested an arm over his eyes. 

'It would have happened sooner or later. You carry no responsibility whatsoever.'

'If I caused it, I would want to know, as to be certain I would not cause it again.'

'I would suffer countless nightmares gladly, relive it all if it meant you... But it is not the issue, Briníel.' He raised his arm and watched her. 

'What is the issue then?' she asked, folding her arms, irritated. 

Ereinion pushed himself up and touched her shoulder. 

'That I cannot protect you from sharing them.' 

'If I... had not whispered to you it would not have happened. There is no need to protect me from anything if it does not come to you.'

Touching her cheek he looked at her attentively. 

'Neither you nor I... We cannot control it, and I will not live with the illusion that either of us can. Especially if it would mean you could not...'

With blazing eyes she completed the lingering sentence. 

'Know your thoughts? Share all with you?' 

He gave a short nod in reply. Celebriníel pulled up her legs, folding her arms and resting them on her knees. 

'You seem to have narrowed the options down to very few, my lord,' she whispered at length. 'Either I abandon you, which is what you would rather have me do, I believe, in some misguided effort to protect me.' 

He expected to receive an accusing glance, but did not. 

'Or,' she continued, 'I remain at your side, and accept all as it is to be.' 

There was nothing he could tell her. Hesitantly he reached out to touch her hair, and slowly let his fingers travel down to her back, where he rested his hand. Bowing her head, she allowed it. 

'Either of these things,' she told him softly, 'have the ability to break me. Except that leaving you would more certainly make me miserable, where staying might still have any possible outcome.'

'Briníel,' he said softly, moving his hand to her side, all too well aware of her distress. 'Do not...'

She turned and faced him. 

'Tell me to go and I shall.'

He could not. _Weak as I am I wish you for myself, by my side, and to believe that we can overcome it all..._

Looking away again, realising she would receive no answer other than his silence, she rested her chin on her arms and stared into the distance. 

'What do you miss most from Middle-earth?' she asked after a while, remaining as she was. 

'The freedom. Even if it was a freedom in appearance only.'

'You are not free here?'

He reached out to brush some hair behind her ear. 

'I was a king in Middle-earth. I could do as I pleased. Being one among many more important Elves can be frustrating.'

'You could have had any lady you desired. Why did you never bind yourself?'

He closed his eyes. How to explain how he had dreamed of silver hair and had never found the lady it belonged to? _Until now..._

'It never came to that.'

'Were you ever in love?'

The answer came quickly to him. 

'Gil-galad once thought he was. In the end, it might have been more of an urge for closeness, comfort, than anything else. His feelings confused me much at one point.' 

'How can you be certain now, then? What makes it different?' 

The weight of the question was hard to miss. 

Shifting position he stared out over the meadow with her. 

'Some say that in these matters there is lust, and there is love. It is a clean depiction of it all, but just as vague at the same time.' He shook his head. 'It does not explain my feelings, my desire to merely have you by my side, as you are now. Or my secret longing to feel what you are feeling when I touch you. I know I love you,' he added more softly, 'even if I cannot explain why or how I know.' 

Celebriníel nodded, uncertain how to react. 

The blue sky above them hosted groups of clouds here and there, but none could withhold Anar from shining hotly down. Crickets chirped, from one place one moment, and another the next, while a breeze chased over the meadow; the only thing keeping the true heat away. A lovely summer afternoon indeed. 

In front of them a sea of green moved to and fro, with the rise of the other side of the hill coloured yellow, the shadow and sun contrast caused by the clouds making it appear almost as if it had dozens of more colours. At one point, there even seemed to be a hue of purple there. 

Beyond started the first stretches of forest, the trees as diverse in colour as the grass; greens and browns, all in a wonderful variety. 

And beside her sat a High Prince of the city of Tirion who had just quite directly told her he loved her. She had known he did, she had considered all the matters he had discussed with her moments ago before, but now that they lay in front of her, more real than ever, it was... difficult to reach the conclusion she had always reached before. 

Ereinion seemed uncertain how to react. 

'Perhaps we should make for the shade,' he pointed, indicating the small collection of trees, with their large branches providing more than enough shadow for a dozen or more. Hot air seemed to move above the ground at places. 

Helping her up, his eyes were fixed on the yellow grassland further away. 

'We used to chase clouds here,' he smiled, needing desperately to break the silence even if it was with idle chatter. 'If it is a windy day, there is nothing better than that.'

Nearing the trees, the grass became higher, with small blades adamant to attach themselves to their clothing. 

Celebriníel did not even attempt to brush them off. Just before they reached their destination, Ereinion halted, waiting for her to meet his eyes. 

'Nîn díheno.' 

She smiled and looked away, the wind pulling softly at her hair. Catching her hand in his, he pulled back her attention. 

'The reason... The reason for me bringing up all of this...The coming betrothal ceremony. My cousin's. I wished that as well.' He looked away. 'I am a fool.' 

'I...' she began, then shook her head and fixed her eyes on the hills opposite of them. 

Ereinion felt as if he had been dropped into an abyss, deep and dark, while Celebriníel remained standing at the precipice. He wanted to hit himself against the head. Of course she could not love him now, naturally she would hesitate. She would leave now, he was sure of it. It was over. 

'I understand,' he whispered, wishing to make it easier for her. 'After what we have spoken of...'

'Yes.' 

He stared at her. 

'Yes?'

'Yes. Yes, I wish it also.'

His breath caught in his throat and he had to remind himself to continue respiration as he felt his heart almost beat out of his chest. He could feel the heat in his cheeks, slowly building up elsewhere in his body as well. Blue eyes locked with his so insistently that it only increased his sudden urge to simply lift her up in his arms and carry her off, to whichever place suited them best. 

Instead, he stepped closer, to find himself welcomed in her arms. 

'I shall never let you go...' he whispered, and watched her chuckle as he felt her hands grasp the back of his tunic. 

'Nor I you, Ereinion. Nor I you...'

And then nothing truly mattered any longer, except perhaps her lips finding his willingly, his hands travelling her back as she pressed against him, and her hands in his hair as he pressed back. 

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Nîn díheno: Forgive me

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*scurries off in search of silver rings* ;)


	36. Silver is a Good Start

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Thanks to Adele for reminding me. ;)

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**Chapter Thirty-Five     Silver is a Good Start******

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Dressed simply in a light-coloured tunic and trousers, Ereinion scanned some last papers on his desk, pretending he was not aware of how close to noon it was, and what lay ahead of him today. It was not exactly nervousness that he felt deep down, but anticipation, certainly, even if he kept telling himself this was nothing to worry over, a day like any other. 

The next moment a whirlwind, dressed in white, stormed into the study, caught his hand and pulled him along, giving him no time at all to do anything. Before he knew it, they were down the stairs, out of the house, through the gate and into the streets, both of them ignoring Elrohir's warning it rained. 

Rain was perfect. 

By no means were the streets of the city of Tirion empty, but those that were out seemed to be going about their business, not paying attention to much else, silently hoping the rain would cease before the betrothal celebrations would commence. Just two were using the rain as a cover. 

Her hand in his, Ereinion now led Celebriníel, to somewhere he had come often the past years; the ideal place to suit their errand. The route he took there was less direct than the one he would usually take, but he did not take it on purpose. It was not because their present way would lead them past something he wished to show her, or not along a place he wished to avoid; if it was out of a feeling of carefulness at all it was an unconscious one. If there was any reason they walked as they did, it was because nothing mattered when he held her hand. 

The bell on top of the ancient door rang as he opened it, halting and allowing Celebriníel to enter first, escaping the rain which appeared to be increasing. It was as if they crossed a threshold into another world. The sound of rain was cut out as soon as the door closed, and was replaced by a faint low sound of clocks ticking, and of mechanisms running their slow but regular course. 

Splendid works were exhibited all around the small shop, each more beautiful, more intricate than the last. Carved wooden boxes, empty of content or carrying musical mechanisms, jewellery of all kinds, ornaments that seemed to have no function except for their silent beauty, standing besides elegant lamps that seemed to emanate light even unlit. 

Celebriníel held her breath until Ereinion's hand found hers again, and together they entered further, finally coming eye to eye with an Elf who seemed to be observing them with nothing short of amusement. The years showed in his eyes, but his face was young, emitting a remarkable brightness. He bowed his head, but never averted his gaze. 

'My lord.'

Celebriníel watched her companion smile at the hail and incline his head in greeting. 

'Tarancarion.' 

The Elf smiled. 

'I predicted you would come here one day, for this reason.' The statement sounded matter-of-fact, more than amused. 

The High Prince flashed a grin in reply. 

'If what I have heard before is true, you would be one of the few in the city predicting it.' He did not wait for a reply and made Celebriníel step forward. 'This is Celebriníel Elrondiel' 

The Elf rose from the high stool he had been occupying at the workbench and bowed to her. 

'Mae govannen, hiril-nîn. I am at your command.' 

Even if nothing had been spoken of, the craftsman seemed well aware of what service he was to provide. He guided them into the next part of the shop, scuttling around busily as they went along, moving small items, carrying them a little way before finding them new places. 

'Silver, you said?' he said over his shoulder, making Ereinion chuckle. 

'I did not say anything, but silver is always a good start, mírdan.'

'I would say silver is a very good thing altogether in your case, aran-nîn,' the jewel-smith shot back, taking a moment to meet Celebriníel's eyes. 'Please, sit.'

He motioned them towards some chairs near what appeared to be a counter of sorts, scattered with small instruments. As Tarancarion began searching for something they both remained standing. 

'I should explain Tarancarion and I have known each other for a long time,' Ereinion said, smiling broadly, evidently enjoying the company. 'He was one of Lindon's master-smiths. And a good friend.' 

Looking to Tarancarion for a response, he found the other with his back towards them, searching for something in a box beneath a worktable. 

'A good friend indeed,' the Elf muttered while searching, 'to attempt...' He stopped rummaging suddenly and turned around. 'Nay, I did not mean that.' 

Only a ghost of his earlier amusement was left on Ereinion's lips as he observed the other Elf. 

'Ereinion?' Catching his hand and entwining her fingers with his, Celebriníel observed him closely, concerned. Tarancarion rose and looked back pensively at Ereinion as well. 

'I did wonder if you ever thought of...' He shook his head. 'And I have received my answer. 'Give me a moment. I have something for you.' He disappeared into the depths of his stockroom, only to return swiftly carrying something that looked undeniably old and worn. Carefully he placed a leather binder on the wooden surface. 

Sitting down carefully, Ereinion let his fingers travel along the edges of the time-stained cover. He knew what it was. Once upon a time different fingers, those too belonging to him, had touched this leather much as they did now. He glanced up at the smith, and then slowly opened the binder to find paper there, some of the sheets in better condition than others, all unaccustomed to touch. 

Celebriníel watched them with him, uncertain what they had been speaking of. They were designs, of a most delicate and precise kind, for the point of a spear. 

'Ever since you first entered here, years ago, I have contemplated showing you, asking you, but somehow I never could bring myself to do it until now. They are yours if you wish; I pass them on onto you.' 

The High Prince sat silently for no more than a moment. Then he shook his head. 

'They belong to another lifetime. And this is...'

'Merely paper?' Tarancarion finished the sentence for him. He received the High Prince's apologetic look with a smile. 

'If I saw the original before me, I do not know what I would do,' Ereinion said softly, his eyes fixed on the drawings again. 

The jewel-smith tilted his head sideways. 

'Most likely it shall never come to that.' 

'Perchance for the better,' Ereinion replied, closing the binder and fixing its fastenings with care before returning it to its master. 'Now, where were we?'

Taking it, Tarancarion looked at it a moment before disappearing into the back again. 

Looking at him, Celebriníel brought a hand up to Ereinion's face, carefully touching his cheek. Catching the hand, he pressed it against his lips. 

'Do not worry. It merely took me unaware.' 

His smile was convincing enough for her to let it go for now. 

Pulling her unto his knee they both expectantly watched Tarancarion return. The Elf stretched out a hand, requesting Celebriníel's. He only needed a single glance. He needed even less time to come to a conclusion in Ereinion's case. 

'A moment.'

Crossing the room, he collected a large band on which thirty or more rings hung, their sizes graduating from small to much larger. While walking back he seemed to search for a particular one, finally found it and removed it from its holding place. With the offhand manner of someone whose livelihood had been spent with doing exactly this, he offered it to Celebriníel. 

A perfect fit. 

'I expected so,' he remarked, already in search for another one, which he offered to Ereinion. Holding up his ringed finger, Ereinion showed the smith had once again estimated the size correctly. Tarancarion turned with a grin, and Celebriníel swore she heard him mumble something that sounded like 'Still the same size.' She was glad Ereinion had failed to notice. 

'How soon can you finish them?' Ereinion asked as the smith scribbled down some notes and gave the rings they had just fitted a closer inspection. 

'Five days would suffice.' Tarancarion nodded to himself. 'As I happen to have just the silver to suit the occasion.'

Resting a hand on Celebriníel's hip lightly Ereinion raised an eyebrow. 

'Oh?'

'Best possible quality.' He flashed a grin. 'Fit for a royal betrothal.'

Meeting Celebriníel's eyes Ereinion beamed and answered for the both of them. 

'Excellent.'

Not much later they entered through ever-open doors of the building and stepped into the square hallway which led to the library itself. From one of the chambers of the adjoining wing came an elf who merely smiled kindly. As if the rule of silence was already appropriate here he motioned both of them to follow into the room he had just exited. There they were pointed towards towels to help rid them of the worst rain. With a smile Ereinion considered how much more this was a case of the librarians wishing to protect ancient books from water damage rather than a considerate gesture towards visitors. With a simple nod they were left to their devices. 

'So quiet,' Celebriníel almost whispered.

Nodding as he watched her dry her hair, Ereinion smiled. 

'I sometimes wonder if some of the librarians ever speak.' 

She ran her fingers through her hair and looked at him expectantly. He offered her a hand, and together they retraced their steps into the hallway, and continued on into the building. The library was, perhaps not surprisingly, quiet, but more so than usual. 

Light shone through the large round windows far above and reflected against the ceiling, an ingenious architectural trick to provide light down below without much need for additional candles or lamps during the day. Ereinion watched the stained-glass depictions of the lower windows, beautiful, almost telling their own tales, intricate as paintings, adding to the atmosphere in their own way. 

Celebriníel looked up at the ceiling. 

'The light is quite special here.'

'You should come here in the evening, when the illumination of the room depends on lamps. However stunning it is during the day, in the evening it is truly amazing.'

She nodded dreamily, meanwhile knowing exactly where she wished to go. 

'It makes me wonder how beautiful it must have looked when the light of the Two Trees still shone.' 

They entered one of the aisles in the extensive history section and Celebriníel released his hand, running her fingers lightly along the spines of the books on the shelves. Folding his hands behind his back Ereinion observed her, as lost in her as she in turn was in the presence of the collected volumes of lore. 

'What is it exactly you are looking for?' he asked her after a while, and watched as she blushed.

'I have always enjoyed reading about Middle-earth,' she said softly, replacing a book on one of the shelves and taking another along as she joined him. They walked on through the main aisle, reaching an empty table where Celebriníel deposited the book. 

'Specific parts? History in general? Politics? Craftwork?' 

She smiled and walked back to the nearby shelves. 

'Specific parts of history. I wished to read about Lindon. About... You.' The final part had become more of a whisper than a mere quiet remark. 

Following her with some slow steps he took the large leather-bound volume she had just collected from her. 

'Ah well, do not read this then.' He smiled. 'For it is extremely boring.' 

He returned it to its place again and began searching; quite certain what he was looking for was here. Once it had been in his mother's possession, but she had given it to the library shortly after his return from the halls of Mandos. As a reason she had said something about not having need for it any longer. Maybe in part it had also been to get it out of the house. Not that he had not found it later on. 

But it made him realise he understood Celebriníel's urge to learn of the places that meant so much to the people around her all too well; he had felt very similar himself not too long ago. The things that had happened there had made them who they were, explained so much of their motives and their actions now. For him it had become more than that when faint memories had begun to invade his life, but that changed very little. He understood. 

And right then, he saw it, standing between a volume of _Battles of the early First Age_ and _Craftsmanship of Eriador_, oddly out of place, but there it was, leather blue cover with silver decorative motifs. He took it out and opened it at random, finding Celebriníel at his side. 

The book appeared to consist of precise pictures going with the texts, and right now Celebriníel could see a mirror-image of the Elf-lord standing beside her, dressed in stately blue, complicated designs embroidered into his robes, his dark hair braided at the temples, a simple silver coronet set on his brow. 

'Ah, wait,' he suddenly said, handing her the book and slowly making his way further down the shelves. 

Celebriníel turned the pages, taking in some of the text, but mostly admiring the drawings, until she was confronted with an image she would have gladly gone without. 

_The Fall of Gil-galad._

It was neatly scribed, and for a moment she thought to recognise her father's hand. Then she decided that had to be a coincidence. 

The shape against which the High King stood in battle was vague, since the picture had not been coloured as the others in the book, and the many lines set down by the artist were still visible, not one clear line preferred above the rest, as in most of the pictures. The face of the lord of Lindon was clearly discernable, even though his handsome features seemed marred by raw lines of intense concentration.

A poem stood next to it, the slant the same as before. 

She read the lines over once, feeling a chill go over her skin, making her shiver, though it was not unpleasantly cold.

'Here, I found it,' Ereinion's voice interrupted as he returned with another book, much less bulky. Celebriníel snapped her book shut and tried to gather a smile. Ereinion was too preoccupied to notice. Showing her an ink depiction of his face, shadow and light making it very true to life, she had to grin. 

'So young.' 

He chuckled and pointed at the small signature in the corner. 'Of your father's hand.' 

'How old was he then?' she asked, taking over the book after placing the other on a shelf, resisting the urge to check for a signature on the other drawing, attempting to make certain Ereinion did not touch it. 

'Uhm, your age, I would gather, a little older,' he replied, thinking. 'Young.' 

As she stood beside him, concentrating on the book, he could not help raising a hand to trace a finger down her jaw. Not surprisingly, that immediately caused her to shift her attention. 

Looking up she swallowed, knowing that without a doubt her cheeks were aflame. Resting a hand against her neck he slowly brought his lips to meet hers, feeling how she placed one of her hands on his chest. 

His lips were warm against hers, and she felt her stomach flutter as he stepped closer, only to encounter the book she was still holding between them. Releasing her from the kiss Ereinion looked at the leather volume indignantly, and the next moment he jammed it impatiently onto a shelf, to return to her and continue his minute examination of her lips. 

Celebriníel was ready for him now, answering his heated kisses as he slipped his arms around her, feeling her face burning and her heart beating like crazy all the while. 

Unfortunately, the book had not been placed back entirely as it should have been, and after balancing some moments it decided it was not willing to remain where the High Prince had intended it to; it hit the floor, noisily but thankfully undamaged. 

Confronted with a sound louder than either of them was comfortable with currently, Ereinion and Celebriníel both turned to observe the book on the floor, as rapidly approaching footsteps became clearly distinguishable. Slowly they stepped away from each other, exchanging some lingering glances and knowing smiles, making certain enough space was between them as was proper. 

_No space between us would be more proper, _Celebriníel thought with a smile and a deep breath as Ereinion collected the book from the marble floor. She turned and collected the book he had handed her earlier from the shelf again, walking over to the table and placing it underneath the other book she had wished to take lying there. 

Once she faced Ereinion again, quite some steps removed, Esvalgor was at his side, and they were conversing quietly, Ereinion no doubt assuring the other the book had sustained no injuries. Remembering the discussion the scholar had started with her mother before, Celebriníel was glad to escape with merely a smile and a nod. Climbing a ladder in the next aisle she began inspecting what secrets the higher shelves there held, and soon she was seated on one of its steps, engrossed in a book on Lindon politics. 

She had no idea how much time had passed, nor how many letters to Númenorean kings she had read, when feeling someone pull at the hem of her dress. Ereinion smiled up at her mischievously. 

'How much more time would you wish to spend up there, lady?'

She chuckled. 

'You have business to attend to?'

Suddenly concentrating on the fabric between his fingers he shook his head. 

'Perhaps you would appreciate something to eat. And from what I can tell, the weather has cleared, and perhaps you would like to go riding, if there is time later.' 

'Oh?' Closing the book, she looked down with twinkling eyes. 'The mighty High Prince is going to take me riding?' 

With flourish he stepped onto the ladder, climbing it enough to be able to bring his lips to her ear.  

'If my lady wishes it.' 

'I know nothing of what your lady would wish, my lord, but I for one would very much enjoy it.' 

He looked at her with a playfully raised eyebrow, and then moved closer again, his lips lingering on her cheek. Celebriníel could not help closing her eyes as he brought a hand up to her neck, fingers brushing past a sensitive spot at her throat. With infinite care he pressed soft kisses to her skin. 

'How do you play this game so well?' she whispered, short of breath, feeling the heat of before return to her skin. 

'I am quite certain you can play it much, much better,' he told her in a low voice as he retreated. 'And I am very willing to allow you to practise on me later.' 

She laughed and narrowed her eyes at him. 

'I am sure.' 

Stepping off the ladder he offered her a hand and helped her down, smiling as she jumped the last two steps. They walked over to the table where several books lay spread out. 

'Do you wish to take any? I can have someone deliver them to your brother's house this afternoon, so we do not have to take them along right now.' 

Without hesitating she picked three books, making certain the one she had secured earlier was there, and together they made for the entrance, only halting to deliver the books into the hands of a librarian who would see to it that they were sent on safely. 

Stepping outside, the weather had indeed bettered, if only a little. The sky remained threateningly grey. Offering his arm, Ereinion seemed thoughtful a moment, then smiled. 

'Hungry?'

'A little.'

'Perfect.' 

He replied to her enquiring look with a grin and stepped onto the street, letting her arm slip from his and catching her hand instead. As they had this morning, they seemed to fly through the streets, again with a certain direction, even if Celebriníel was not certain of their destination. In the end it turned out not to be far. 

For years there had been stately houses, almost palaces, which she had only seen from the outside, not aware, not truly interested, of what was within. After so many yéni of prosperous growth, Tirion was a city that excelled in beauty, and it was often difficult to say if a building had a special communal purpose, housed a workshop, or was simply a place where someone lived. 

The building they entered was less than conspicuous; if she had gone by it in the street she would most likely not have given it a second glance, but slipping inside through the almost small door they came upon a splendid courtyard, a small fountain in the middle, white columns standing tall and stately, age-old and at the same time almost as if they had been placed there yesterday. 

They stayed under the roof instead of crossing the courtyard more directly, and were greeted by an Elf dressed in a fine grey on the other side. Inclining his head towards Ereinion, he went before them and led them further, through a hallway where the stone slabs with their almost unnoticeable but intricate patterns gave way to wooden floorboards carrying a beautiful inlaid mosaic. 

'Near the garden, my lord?'

Ereinion merely nodded. 

Celebriníel wondered if these Elves knew who he was, and whether they were simply avoiding acknowledging it by referring to him as "my lord". It had to be known Ereinion disliked idle use of his title, however much he had accepted it. The conundrum of it amused her. 

The next chamber they entered held several tables where people sat talking animatedly while enjoying their meals. Ereinion was holding her hand as ever, and Celebriníel expected him to release it and offer his arm instead. But he held on, folding her arm under his so that, almost unseen, their fingers remained entwined. He gave her a secretive wink. 

Crossing the room he greeted Elves here and there, but never halted, and they never rose, allowing the two of them to continue on into another courtyard. Instead of a fountain there was a lush garden with several slender but tall trees standing in the centre of it. Anar had hesitantly begun to cast its rays onto the grass, and they were led to a table which stood just out of reach of the light. From somewhere within the trees, a bird began to chatter happily. 

'Like it?' Ereinion asked quietly, as if she was to decide whether they would stay or not. 

Smiling broadly she nodded, allowing a seat to be pulled out for her. As the weather went on to grow better and better, the afternoon passed in vivid conversation, and if there was anyone around them that smiled upon seeing the High Prince and his guest, neither of them noticed. 

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Tarancarion: I could argue it does have some Elvish in it, but it's too little to make real sense. 

mírdan: jewel-smith

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	37. Memories

** High Princes of Tirion  
** by Nemis

My thanks to those to whom thanks are due. (You know who you are.) ;)

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** Chapter Thirty-Six Memories**

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Elrond had watched the rain come to an end with something resembling relief. The weather had been reminiscent of that during a particularly dreary time he had spent in Tirion not long after leaving the gardens of Lórien, shortly before settling at Imloth. It had been a transition period, but not one he looked back on with fond recollection. 

The eventual emergence of the sun just after midday had improved his mood considerably. But still there was something that kept him from being entirely at ease. A kind of restlessness he could not explain. 

There was some peace in a memory of a certain day in that same period of time; the day that had preceded the evening of the banquet in the High King's halls announcing the start of the summer solstice feasting. It had been his first full summer in Tirion after all the years he had spent in the gardens. 

The day had consisted of meeting Celebrían outside the city, in green meadows, basking together in the first gloriously sunny days since a long time. There had been lovemaking, a small picnic, and a ride on horseback, which should have led them back to Tirion, but had not. For no reason at all he had gone into another direction, on a whim. Celebrían had made no comment on it; most likely she had expected that either the alternative route had a purpose, or that he had needed the time to collect his thoughts. He was uncertain how long he had continued at the time, recalling his uncertainty of what he had been looking for, and what it would be he would find. 

They had kept to the higher regions of the hills, the river from Tirion running besides the chain of hills down below. Even in the memory there was the sound of faraway water, and that of the second horse, together with soft touches of Celebrían's mind on his own, reassuring. A breeze blew around his hair, slipping underneath his tunic to cool his skin. Briefly, trusting the animal beneath him, he had closed his eyes, feeling Anar's rays, the serenity around him, his beloved's ease, and he had forgotten what had caused him to go this way. 

When he opened his eyes, it had been there.

It had felt as if he had been there before, while he was quite sure it could not be so. Large fields of flowers moved in the wind amidst the green grass, and the shadow of a lonely cloud sped over the scene, the wind above pushing it relentlessly. 

'Elrond?' 

Drawn back into the present he turned in time to see Celebrían enter, just returned from the library, and observed the flush on her cheeks as she neared to catch his hand and kiss him in greeting. It was difficult not to notice his wife's radiance when she was in her element. 

'You waited for the rain to cease?'

She nodded as she put down the books she had brought. 

'It seemed the best course of action to wait it out. But the afternoon was delightful. Even though Esvalgor remains an old fool.' She looked at her husband, finding him sharing her smile, adjusting to her mood and making it his own. Bringing her hand to his cheek she gave him a comforting look, as always able to trace something in his demeanour back to his frame of mind, however much he would try to hide it. 'Something is amiss?' 

He shook his head and kissed her hand. 

'Merely memories.' 

She breathed deeply. 

'That dreadful year in Tirion. I was reminded of it earlier as well.' 

Elrond smiled and pressed the back of her hand against his cheek. 

'There were good moments though, I tend to forget.' 

Renewing her smile, Celebrían looked at him. 

'Yes, I remember.' There was a long moment when they both did, eyes meeting knowingly, colour rising slightly in cheeks, and finally Celebrían embraced him, closing her eyes and letting the memories sweep over her. 'You told me you had found it, and I did not understand. Then you pointed to the east and said with so much certainty that Tirion was there. You knew exactly where we were, and yet when mounting earlier you had had no idea where you were going.' 

He nodded, kissing her neck before pulling away slightly, enough to be able to watch her face and brush a thumb along her lower lip. He did not need to tell her that had been a period in his life during which he had been uncertain entirely of where he was going; she knew already. 

'I recall you had the most questioning look in your eyes at the time.' 

'It was a very enigmatic conversation, El-nîn,' she replied with a chuckle. 'You nodding at that green valley, and saying you had found your peace as if those words explained everything.' 

Letting a breath of air escape from his lungs Elrond shook his head. 

'But that dreadful banquet in the evening...' 

She touched his face soothingly. 

'It was not that dreadful. Did you know the first time I attended such a feast a certain elfling ran around continually with a banner around his shoulders for a cape, and a clothespin keeping it in place? And neither his grandmother nor his grandfather had the heart to tell him to cease doing it.' 

It brought a smile back to his face, and bringing her hand to his lips he nodded, understanding the underlying meaning of her words. The past did not rule them now. Even if that time had been horrible, it had been the beginning of happiness. At Imloth everything had returned to how it had once been; a kind of new beginning. 

Some time went by until the last touch lingering between them was their linked hands. Releasing Celebrían's hand finally, Elrond sat down, and watched her find a seat behind the desk which stood in the room, where she began sorting papers and was soon caught up in reading and taking notes. He pensively watched her, hand to his head, still not quite able to let it all go as easily as she. 

In many ways she was ahead of him, as she had always been, taking matters in a much more uncomplicated way than he did, accepting many things with less of the anguish he would go through before arriving at that same point. Hers had once been his way also, so long ago, until everything had spiralled out of control, and his need to keep this control in future had caused him to consider all and everything, taking it into account in order to predict what he could be confronted with next. 

She had been one of the few factors in his life he had never been entirely able to calculate, and he loved her the more for it. In comparison she knew him so much better. Well enough to give up this life here in Tirion, with her family, near the things she loved, which she had gotten to know in the time he had not been at her side; all that because she knew he could not be entirely happy here. Not yet. 

'I never asked you.' 

Not taking her eyes off the documents before her, Celebrían shook her head. 

'Asked me what?' 

'Imloth. Whether you would not rather have lived in Tirion.' 

'I seem to remember going to Imloth was a decision we took together,' she replied quietly, meeting his eyes.

His gaze was serious, an indication to her of the conclusion he had come to already privately. 

'But I never asked.' 

'Was there any need to, truly?' she posed, rising and crossing the room. 'I knew it would take a long time before you could find peace in Tirion, and today I know you are still not entirely at ease here; if anything this visit has proven that. Imloth is your peace. And I have no wish to take that peace away from you, I did not then, and I do not now.' 

'I would stay here, settle here, in Tirion, if you wished it,' he whispered, looking up at her. 

'You will do something for me,' Celebrían said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, requesting his with the other. 

Unreservedly Elrond took it, an answer in itself even before anything had been asked. 

'Yes?' 

She smiled at his questioning look, showing an eagerness to please similar to that which he had already shown her over an age ago. Resting two fingers on his lips she shook her head. 

'Once this betrothal ceremony is over we shall return to Imloth.' 

Grey eyes watched her intently, not entirely understanding. 

'But Brí...'

Bending down she replaced her fingers with her lips and felt him answer, bringing up a hand to rest on her face. 

'We shall return because I wish it,' she added when she could. 

'And Briníel?' 

'I shall inform her of our plans, and if she does not wish to join us I am certain Elrohir will gladly watch over her in our stead. In case she does join us, I do believe both she and Ereinion have possession of a horse. It is only a two hour journey.' 

Nodding slowly, Elrond seemed to judge something in her eyes, not entirely convinced by her words alone. 

'There is something you wish to tell me?' 

Looking at him, on the verge of speaking, she ended up first chuckling and then shaking her head. 

'We both know each other too well, you and I.' 

He nodded, inwardly amused at how he had considered exactly that before. Kissing her fingers he silently waited for her to continue. Taking a deep breath Celebrían entwined her fingers with his and sat down on the armrest of the chair. 

'It concerns a book of yours, as far as I know there is only a single copy, and you gave it to one of the companies leaving Imladris for the West to be given to Ereinion's mother upon their arrival there. I think it must have been shortly after our marriage. I know of its ultimate arrival there because the lady showed it to me when I came to Tirion for the first time, some years after my arrival on Aman, many years before Ereinion's return from Mandos's Halls.'

'I know what it is you speak of,' Elrond replied quietly. 'What of it?' 

'When Ereinion returned, she wrote to me asking if you would mind if she would make it a gift to the Great Library. She never said it, exactly, but I believe it was her intention to protect him of what was in it for as long as she could. I answered you would not mind, whether rightfully so or not...' 

'You were right,' he whispered, only interrupting her words a moment before she continued. 

'In any case, he did find it of course, years later, and came to me, closest as I was to you of those living here on Aman.' 

'Closest of those living anywhere,' he told her with half a smile on his lips, caressing her hair, and resting an arm around her waist. Not able to continue immediately, Celebrían slipped from the armrest onto his lap, where Elrond gladly accommodated her. 

'I did not know whether Ereinion kept the book,' she went on, 'or whether he returned it to the Great Library. This afternoon, while waiting for the rain to abate, one of the librarians asked me whether it would be troublesome for me to take along the books Briníel had selected earlier, because they would not have the time to deliver them until much later. Naturally I acquiesced to take them with me.' 

'Finding that book among them?' Elrond asked, completing the story. 

'Yes.' 

Sitting back and pulling her along, he rested his head against her shoulder. 

'You predict she will have questions after reading it. And I believe she will. But I fear she will not come to me for answers.' 

Celebrían placed a hand on his chest, her head resting against his. 

'Perhaps Ereinion is the one who should answer her questions. He was with her, he is likely to know she has seen it and will read it.' 

He shook his head. 

'She will understand what those pages say, she will recognise the history, but his victories as well as my bereavement lie between the covers of that book. There was a reason you urged me to start and finish it. I was angry, disillusioned. She might not understand that. And she might not go to him to ask either.' 

'I could speak to her of it, if you wish.'

Taking a deep breath Elrond looked up at her, bringing his fingers to play upon her cheek. 

'No. I will speak to her myself.'

--~~*~~--

That evening, late, returning from Elrohir's house where he had seen Celebriníel home, Ereinion entered his chambers and halted. It was not because he felt a need for it, or because he had seen something which had surprised him, but just because it was a moment worth considering. 

How long ago had it been that he had sat here in the dead of night, unable to sleep, mourning a feeling he had expected would always remain unanswered? It felt like it had happened ages ago. Perhaps it had. 

From there he remembered another time he had been seated similarly, cross-legged, the night surrounding him. Far away, there had been the fires burning clearly in the encampments, some forms seated around them, and that had continued to content him, during the many years they had spent there, in Mordor. Repeatedly he had been warned not to go, not to wander off, of enemy patrols coming near, surprising him in the dark. It was a possibility, he knew all too well. But he had never heeded the warnings. 

So what was it that had caused him to sit there then? Pride? He knew pride well, had cursed it as often. Had he wished for it to come, death? Had he willed it to? The only thing he had known was that it would come, as certain as light would come in the morrow. Though he wondered each night again whether some light would be able to find them at all in that dark place. 

_ I will find my end as my ancestors have found it. I do not see myself on a ship going to Aman. _

And he had not seen them win, then. If there were to be a kind of victory, he had known beforehand he would not see it, and that it would not end the Darkness entirely. Would it ever end entirely? 

For some reason none of that mattered now. It lay in the past, and it was behind him. 

Entering his bedchamber, he undressed and made ready for the night, not fearing anything. Slipping underneath the sheets, closing his eyes, utterly at peace, the last thing he thought of before sleep conquered him was that he did not believe any nightmare could threaten his happiness now. And that night, no nightmare dared. 

--~~*~~--

Across the city, nightmares did discomfort another. 

It had come down to a struggle for breath, a struggle to rid himself of the immense weight placed on his neck, his chest; his lungs burning. In reality, there was nothing that held him back, but in his dreams his bed had become Dor-nu-Fauglith, and his sheets unseen restraints which kept him from escaping. His blood pounded through his veins, and his head was filled with the same pain and wrath and despair as it had been then, so long ago. 

The sound of blood in his ears still resounded in his head as he woke, strangely familiar and yet he knew he would never grow accustomed to it. He breathed deeply, feeling how his lungs took up the air in great gulps, and in his eagerness he nearly choked and was forced to cough his airways free while rolling off the bed and ending up on the stone floor on hands and knees. 

He had no idea how long he stayed so, the most important matter to his body was air, breath, life, and everything in him screamed for it. Only slowly did he become aware of what went on around him, but one of the first clear things he could distinguish was a hand resting half against his neck, half between his shoulder blades. Her mind soothed him, and even if unconsciously he had to have been aware of it before, he only took notice of it after he felt her cool fingers on his skin. 

He attempted to sit up, but she held him back. 

'Take a moment to find yourself first, meldaverno.' 

Sitting back nevertheless, he fixed his eyes on the curtains blowing softly in the night breeze. Slowly, everything was falling back into place where it belonged; the past returned to itself, and he returned to the then and now, unscathed. 

Just then, her hand rested on his chest from behind, and with a smile he caught it as she kissed his neck. 

'I felt it wake you,' she whispered. 

He nodded, and concentrated on her fingers entwining with his, remaining silent. Anairë rested her other arm around him as well and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Fingolfin was grateful for it; her warmth always chased the coldness of death away; firm evidence how much stronger reality was compared to a memory. 

'I do not know where it came from,' he confessed, shivering from the after effects of the nightmare, his skin slightly clammy with sweat. 

'You take too much upon yourself, and your mind has been on too many other matters.'

He smiled. 

'Perhaps.' 

Rising and releasing him, inwardly reluctant, Anairë gathered the chamber coat which lay draped across the foot of the bed. Arranging it around Fingolfin's shoulders she observed him commencing in pulling it on slowly, before preparing to rise. 

She was uncertain whether to mention their late visitor at all; she had already informed the elf in question Fingolfin was indisposed, but there seemed to be an urgency about the elf making it clear the matter could not bear to be postponed. In her experience her husband's recovery from the few nightmares he had nowadays was swift, but she also knew each situation could be an exception. And she had no wish to place yet more weight upon his shoulders. 

Once on his feet, Fingolfin met her eyes and smiled, raising a hand to touch her face thankfully. 

'I shall be fine momentarily. Who is waiting?'

Studying his face a moment longer she finally breathed deeply and took his arm. 

'Elrohir's son. He seems ill at ease and would not leave until he had been able to speak with you.'

With a slow nod Fingolfin gathered his coat around him and placed a reassuring hand on Anairë's arm. 

'Let us go and attempt to reassure him then.'

--~~*~~--

'You are such a fool, Briníel,' Celebriníel mumbled to herself as she drew her garments closer around her. Entering the library she found a single lonely light lit. If it was a sign of anything, it was one of her father's presence. 

Picking up the lantern, she used it to light her search for the books her mother had informed her were to be found lying somewhere around there. It did not take her long to discover the stack on the desk. With a smile she retrieved one of the books from among the others, and taking the volume back to the table she lay it down there, placing the lantern beside it. When she found the right page, she simply stared at the picture of which the image had occupied her so much. 

A hand rested carefully on her shoulder, and she half-turned, knowing very well who it was that stood beside her. 

'I fear you will not understand this,' Elrond spoke softly, leaning over and pulling the volume closer. 

'So, it was you who drew it?' she asked him, observing her father biting his lip as he watched the picture. 'I was not certain.'

'I drew it,' Elrond replied. 'I drew all of them.'

He went back a moment and stared at one of the earlier images. Then he returned to the sketch.

'I had to,' he said blankly. 'For I could not... There was no way to remove the image from my mind. I gathered... Your mother thought that perhaps I could confront it in this manner, so it would not occupy me as much. And it did indeed help. It became something I could live with, even though I could never bring myself to colouring it. Perhaps like that, it was less... real.' 

Celebriníel watched him, almost frowning at the picture. 

'Why did it occupy you?' 

'His death was revenge. Revenge for all the times he had thwarted Sauron's plans. And even if it was never clearly spoken, I came to believe he knew he would die that day. He was aware only death awaited him on that barren plain. For me that changed everything, because it suddenly meant he had gone there purposely, knowing he would not return from the encounter alive. At the time, I could not fathom it. He never spoke to me of it.' 

'Did you question him about it later, when you met again here on Aman?' 

'I did, in passing, but I believe he was not certain of the answer at the time, and I did not truly wish to know anymore. By then I understood why he made that sacrifice.' 

'Why?' 

Elrond sat down beside her, catching her hand. 

'To protect the ones that he loved. To save his people from terror.' 

Nodding slowly, Celebriníel fixed her gaze on the picture, recognising it, or the feeling that accompanied it. 

'When I shared his nightmare, I felt that. He felt it was what he had to do. Is he really that person still, or is he much different now?' 

'He still does the things he feels he has to do,' Elrond began, and only when Celebriníel gave him a weak smile did he continue. 'I somehow seem to remember he was more boisterous. It is an act he has not quite mastered yet, it seems.' 

'An act?' 

'You know him well, Briníel. Do not underestimate this. You see things now you would never have seen in Middle-earth. When he laughs now, he means it. When he laughed then, I was not always certain. When I arrived on Aman and met him again, I believed someone had to know Gil-galad to know Ereinion, but now I think I was mistaken.' 

'You were?'

He nodded. 

'All the same, I am quite certain that if you know Ereinion, you also know Gil-galad. It is a part of him now, undeniably, but not something that rules him.' 

'You were great friends, even then.' 

Elrond nodded pensively, while his daughter was silent for a while. Celebriníel wondered if Ereinion would do the same now, when forced to make the same choice. However ridiculous the notion, she could not help but speculate. How much had she influenced him, how much more did she mean to him in comparison to those he had known in Middle-earth? The question was unfair, selfish, even, but it occupied her. Would she be able to live without him? Would he be able to live without her?

'How did you do it?' she finally whispered. 'Stay in Middle-earth for over five centuries, after Naneth left?' 

It was almost the same question, she thought, and it was equally unfair to ask, because she could imagine how much her father must have suffered over it all. If her mother's reaction was anything to go by, it was a question that would best remain unasked, continue as something between the two of them, not something for her to wonder about. 

'It is not easy to fathom, even, at times, for me,' she heard him say, to her surprise. 'If I had been able to surrender duty, if I could have lived with that, believe me, I would have done so, and joined your mother in an instant. I very nearly did. But you would not have been here. And perhaps not even Aman would have been safe now.' 

Meeting her eyes, Elrond shook his head. 

'She could not stay, or she would have... faded. And I could not go, Briníel. It was not yet my time.'

'But why duty, Ada? She missed you, and you missed her...' 

Swallowing, Elrond stared at her. 

'I could not go yet because... I have grown to believe it was meant to be that way. Even then, all was already decided. If I had left then, Arwen would have accompanied us. And Middle-earth would likely have fallen, and only Darkness would reign there now.' 

'Do you believe you had to stay so my sister could fall in love with Elessar?' 

His breath deep, Elrond shook his head. 

'At the time, all I knew was that Sauron would return, and that if there were none to stand against him, all we had done previously would have been for naught.' 

'You stayed so Ereinion did not die for naught?'

Thinking for a moment, considering a thought he had many times before considered in the privacy of his own mind, he shook his head and caught Celebriníel's hand again. Was he to tell her that perhaps he had not trusted those who remained enough to protect Middle-earth? That conceivably a weakness of his had been to believe he was indispensable? Duty bound to protect his people? 

'He once told me he felt that what happened had to happen. Whatever reasons were behind it, he did not die for naught.'

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^

Dor-nu-Fauglith: 'land under choking ash', also (previously) called Ard-galen, and Anfauglith

meldaverno: (Quenya) melda: beloved, verno: husband

*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^*~^


	38. Celebrations?

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

My thanks go to a bunch of people, but especially those on LJ who helped out a hand and supported me through possibly the most nerve-wrecking round of exams I've ever gone through, and everyone who took the time to leave a review last chapter.

Great thanks to Sphinx for the bouncy plotbunnies, and to Earonn, Ellie and Adele for reminding me to at least write _something_. ;)

**Jojo11**: As for the great-grandfather matter, you're right, I don't know what I was thinking putting it in there. As for re-housing, best see my notes on it for the prologue, but I just want to say I disagree with it being entirely out of the realm of what Tolkien wrote about it. In HoMe vol. 10 (Morgoth's Ring, Athrabeth Finrod Ah Andreth, 'The Converse of Manwë and Eru') there is this exchange:

_Eru answered: 'Let the houseless be rehoused!'_

_Manwë asked: 'How shall this be done?'_

_Eru answered: 'Let the body that was destroyed be re-made. Or let the naked fëa be re-born as a child.'_

(p. 362, Harper Collins paperback)

I just took the middle road, since it is nowhere specified whether this "remade" body is adult or not, so I don't think I've gone entirely uncanonical yet. ;)

chocolate elfies for everyone :D

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**Chapter Thirty-Seven Celebrations?**

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Early mornings in Fingolfin's house were characteristically quiet, and this morning was no exception. Fingolfin cherished the peacefulness which was in such a stark contrast with the hectic goings-on of the Council sessions. But that peacefulness did not feel complete today. Walking through the marble hallways, not having changed into the robes he typically wore during the day, Fingolfin found himself preoccupied.

It was by one of the large windows which let in the bright rays of Anar, caring little for the worldly concerns of the former high king, that he joined Anaïre, letting his hands, which he had held clasped behind his back, slide to his sides. She smiled up at him and caught one of those hands, not shifting her gaze to the outside again but meeting his eyes intently.

'So what will you do?'

'It depends,' he said slowly. 'That Elernil came to me was sensible, I can perhaps succeed where he cannot. I am arrogant enough to believe my name still means something in Tirion society. But the only way to take care of the matter behind closed doors is to involve Ereinion. Aewendîs _is_ his cousin.'

Anaïre shook her head.

'Instead of his parents?'

Fingolfin smiled, grey eyes thoughtful, observing how the trees outside filtered the light and created a play of shadow and brightness on the floors.

'This is a matter between two people, not two families. However much I trust Fingon, he would approach the matter differently from Ereinion; speak to the young lady's parents rather than to her personally. And the fewer people that know of this the better. If the answer given by the young lady is not satisfactory to Elernil's expectations, she must in no way be limited in her choices. If she wishes her betrothal to proceed, none must know. And Ereinion cares much for Elernil. He will help, if he can.'

'How does Elernil?' Anaïre asked, exacting some pressure on her husband's hand.

'He has slept a little. I left him dozing off just now. Though I do not doubt his nerves will get the better of him again in not too long a while.'

'And how does my lord Fingolfin?'

He smiled warmly.

'He hopes he can be content with an early night, this eve, finding this matter resolved.'

Rising, Anaïre kissed his cheek.

'I shall go see Ereinion myself.'

'Yes,' Fingolfin whispered, 'perhaps it would be best to move swiftly in this matter.'

'Be well, husband.'

Caressing her cheek with the tips of his fingers he nodded.

'Blessings be with you, Anaïre.'

-----

Much to her surprise, the lady Anaïre found her grandson up and awake already, rummaging through some papers in one of the drawers of his desk, certainly not working, but there nevertheless. He appeared as surprised to find her there.

'Daernaneth? What can I do for you at this early hour?'

'Do your grandfather and one of your cousins a great favour in bringing Aewendîs to his halls.'

Frowning, Ereinion left the paper-filled drawer and looked up at her. He remained silent, but something resembling understanding flitted across his face.

'Elernil?'

Anaïre nodded almost imperceptibly.

Sitting back in his chair Ereinion appeared momentarily caught up in contemplation.

'I would have seen it more clearly, I would have taken care of this if he had only let me.'

'He came to Fingolfin late last evening. They spoke for much of the night. Have you any knowledge on the matter?'

'No, I did not wish to interfere,' he answered, looking at her again. 'I thought they had come to an understanding between them when her betrothal was announced. I take it I was mistaken?'

'Elernil says they have not spoken, had no opportunity to, and that they will not allow him to see her now.'

'And there shall be no opportunity for them to speak if the matter is left for too long,' he nodded. 'I shall go at once. He will not make the same mistake I made before. I will not allow it.'

Rising, a new kind of urgency about him, he nevertheless halted a moment.

Anaïre looked at the balcony doors only now, and saw Ereinion extending a hand to Celebriníel, who must have been there all the time.

'I shall find you later, it will not be long.'

The young lady nodded silently and allowed him to go. Anaïre extended an arm to her as she heard her grandson descend the stairway.

'Come. No matter how his errand will go, his grandfather's halls will be his final destination. You will meet him there.'

-----

The horses in the stables had been surprised to see him, Ereinion thought. He was rarely in such a hurry as to travel on horseback within the city, and they had no doubt grown accustomed to their life of leisure. But speed was of the essence now. Or perhaps it was not, and he just wished the matter to be resolved one way or another as soon as it was possible.

Aewendîs was the great-granddaughter of his mother's sister, and when he was younger he had spent quite some time at his aunt and uncle's house, where a large part of the family assembled often, resulting in a friendly acquaintance with the young elf lady. She was only some years younger than he was, and never before had either of them held back of speaking directly of something to the other. Had their friendship been less close, he would have thought twice about what he was about to do. The whole situation could very possible turn into a quagmire of hurt family relations in the blink of an eye.

When he settled in Tirion upon taking up his duties in the Council, his mother's family had already been present daily in his father's halls, and that presence had by and by transferred to include his halls also. Aewendîs and Elernil had met each other in those surroundings, and Ereinion had understood they had become close friends.

The exact definition of this closeness now appeared to be becoming increasingly important.

The house of his mother's family was on the other side of the city, but it did not take him a very long time to reach it. Once he had arrived, he permitted someone to stable his horse and entered into the bustle of the house; most of the family had assembled here in preparation of the celebrations of the coming days. In the end, it proved easy enough to avoid anyone who would inquire after the reason of his presence; the family was overly occupied with preparations and appeared relieved he kept to merely raising a hand in greeting from across a hallway.

As expected, the garden was quieter, except for the talking and chuckling of several young ladies, among them indeed the girl he had come to find. When she noticed him, Aewendîs rose immediately and came to meet him.

'Ereinion! I did not think to see you until tomorrow.'

He smiled and kissed her cheek in greeting as she did the same.

'There was something I wished to ask of you, and it was a rather urgent matter.'

'It must be urgent if you leave that lady everyone speaks of to her own devices,' she said teasingly. 'It is quite the subject of discussion everywhere. They say yours shall be the next betrothal ceremony Tirion will celebrate.'

Ereinion found himself too preoccupied with present matters to smile whole-heartedly on the subject.

'Your own betrothal, Aewendîs, are you certain?'

She averted her gaze to a nearby rosebush a moment but then looked up again with a smile.

'Ardhion is a good person.'

'You love him?'

Avoiding his eyes again, Aewendîs did not look up with the reassuring smile of before.

'He loves me, and I hold him dear.'

With a nod Ereinion stared in front of him. He had practised his own kind of self-denial long enough to recognise it in another.

'In Middle-earth, I loved someone once. I did not tell her, and when my duties took me away from her for several years I returned to find her married to another.'

'I regret to hear that,' she told him softly.

'No need to regret it, it is in the past. Only,' he said quietly, realising very well their conversation was being observed closely by those who were in the garden with them, even if they did not hear much of what was being exchanged, 'I would not wish to see you make a similar mistake.'

Meeting Aewendîs's eyes, he saw the surprise. 'Elernil has attempted to speak to you himself,' he added, 'but he could not accomplish to be allowed to see you.'

Shaking her head, Aewendîs released his arm and turned away. Averting her face might have shielded her tears from his view, but it was not difficult to distinguish them in her voice when she spoke.

'Where is he now?'

'At my grandfather's halls. Will you speak with him?'

Remaining as she was for a time, Aewendîs finally faced him again.

'I will.' She met his eyes. 'If you promise not to mention this to my parents.'

He nodded resolutely.

'I will not, you have my word.'

'Then please take me to him.'

As the two of them made for the stables, Ereinion wondered whether no one would stop them, if only to ask where they were going. In the end everyone was either too caught up in whatever they were doing, or they trusted him enough to feel the need to ask. A pang of regret shot through him as he offered Aewendîs a hand to mount. He had met Ardhion and liked him. His behaviour towards the young man was unfair. As he mounted himself, he considered Aewendîs's regrets and doubts had to be far greater than his.

The street they travelled to reach Fingolfin's halls was a straight and broad one, one of the largest and busiest of the city, running through much of Tirion. They were forced to move at a trot for fear of running someone over, but they were not delayed much.

Whether or not Fingolfin or Anaïre had asked their attendants to keep an eye out for early arrivals, as soon as they entered through the great iron gates that led to the house there were people at hand to take their horses, and they were able to enter without delay. Making for his grandfather's chambers in the western wing of the house, Ereinion found Fingolfin already waiting.

'I wish to have a word with Elernil first,' he told Fingolfin, who did not object. Looking back at Aewendîs he reached out to exert some reassuring pressure on her hand and then entered, finding Elernil on tenterhooks. At his entrance the young elf rose to his feet at once.

'Ereinion, I...'

He shook his head.

'No, do not speak, I know. I only wish to ask you if you love the lady. Because if you do not, you run the risk of breaking her heart, and I do not intend to allow that, whatever family connection there is between us. I hold her very dear, and by doing this for you her well-being has become my responsibility.'

'I love her,' Elernil whispered, his voice becoming stronger, more emphatic. 'And I was a fool to let it come to this.'

Watching the other, Ereinion finally smiled weakly.

'We all think we have time, and then discover that sometimes not even the elves have the luxury of forever.'

Then he turned, walking to the door and discovering Aewendîs nearby. He could not be certain how much she had heard, but none of Elernil's words were likely to hurt her more than she had been hurt already. She met his eyes and then slipped past him, inside, after which he closed the doors.

Nearing his grandfather they both looked back at the closed doors and then turned towards the hallway, walking down it unhurriedly.

'What do you believe shall happen now?' Fingolfin asked, his eyes on the shining floor beneath their feet.

'The betrothal ceremony shall have to be cancelled. Feelings shall be hurt, people might not speak to each other for a little while. But if those two love each other very few would hold it against either of them. Aewendîs's betrothal would be a mistake if she loved another.'

'How can you be so certain she will not turn Elernil down?'

'Oh, she might turn him down yet,' Ereinion shrugged. 'But she will not betroth herself to Ardhion if she does, I think. Give her time, give them both time.'

Halting by the entrance to one of the inner courtyards, Ereinion took Fingolfin's extended hand with a nod. There was little need for words, but Fingolfin made an almost indiscernible gesture for his grandson to enter the courtyard. Smiling knowingly, Ereinion left the elf lord to await the outcome of what now took place behind those closed doors alone.

The weather had heated up considerably since the early morning, and it was likely today would soon turn too warm to do anything but laze about. Enjoying the sun on his face now that other matters were beyond his control, Ereinion slowly descended the steps into the courtyard and found Celebriníel walking in the shadowy regions beneath a covered passage on the other side.

Planning his path so it would meet with hers he neared her quietly, only being discovered when mere steps removed. The beam on her face made it clear she had no objection to his joining her.

'You have cleared up the problem?'

He shook his head as he folded his arms behind his back.

'Only Elernil and Aewendîs clear anything up. But I helped a little to get them together to do so.'

Celebriníel smiled.

'I believe he cares for her.'

'And she for him, I dare say,' Ereinion replied.

'If that is truly so, why did they not speak it? Why allow it to come to this?'

'Why not confess love and be done with it, betrothal, marriage, everything?' Ereinion asked while observing her.

She nodded.

'Nothing restricts either of them.'

The unspoken words clearly hung in the air, that many things restricted them, but instead of regretting that like she appeared to, Ereinion smiled and touched her nose with his index finger. Celebriníel frowned at him but the smile on her lips overruled it entirely.

'Yes?'

'Nothing,' he said, in such a way that she could hardly take it as the truth.

'Please, you have a grin plastered across your face which hardly suggests _nothing_.'

He moved to halt her steps and shook his head a little.

'It is nothing. Just something you once said to me.'

'Oh?'

'The very first time we met again at Imloth, during the festivities, remember?'

She nodded slowly, sharing in his smile as he stepped closer.

'I took refuge on your arm.'

'You did. And you said to me you would wait an age to see how you thought about love, and certainly had no wish to betroth yourself to anyone anytime soon.'

'If you had not been there then I would most likely still be saying the same thing. And I was babbling at that particular occasion.'

Ereinion smiled forgivingly.

'The best of us do that at times.'

'I find that hard to believe,' Celebriníel stated firmly, glancing at him mischievously.

'I assure you it is true,' Ereinion said emphatically, reacting on her eyes glimmering in silent amusement. 'I would find it very easy to babble about the weather, or Tirion orchards and cattle, just so you would allow me to remain here, by your side.'

'You are a fool, Ereinion,' she told him, shaking her head in amusement.

'Ah, but you suffer me gladly,' he whispered as he bent down to kiss her, bringing up a hand to touch her face.

'You are an overconfident fool too,' she whispered against his lips in correction, making him laugh.

'You know me far too well, my lady,' he admitted playfully while catching her hand. 'Is it your wish to remain here until we hear of Elernil or do we go and leave everything to run its own course?'

Celebriníel smiled.

'Where would we go?'

'We could go into the City and watch the preparations for the celebrations. Though that would be a rather heartless thing to do, knowing what we know.'

Breathing deeply, Celebriníel walked over to one of the benches which stood against the wall of the covered outside edge of the courtyard, sitting down.

'Everything shall have to be called off, I imagine?'

'Very likely,' he replied, taking a seat next to her.

'Such a waste,' she said. 'It was to be such a magnificent occasion.'

'It does not happen often,' Ereinion reassured her, catching her hand. 'And the inhabitants of Tirion will find other matters to celebrate, I assure you.'

'Will it mean we shall have to go back to Imloth, though?' she asked. 'It is likely to insult one family or another.'

'I do not know,' Ereinion answered. 'Usually it depends on who takes offence, or whether it is taken at all. If Ardhion bears love for Aewendîs he will do all to spare her further pain.'

'Will our betrothal celebrations be like these?'

He caught her hand and entwined his fingers with hers, concentrating on the action intensely.

'Only if you wish them to be.'

With a groan she rose to her feet and walked towards the archway which would lead back into the bright courtyard, placing both her hands on either side of the entrance.

'It is all so imposing, and I hardly know anyone here in Tirion.'

Rising, Ereinion walked towards her and placed his arms around her from behind, embracing her firmly, pressing his lips against her neck.

'We could always elope.'

She smiled and pulled his arms more securely around her.

'Do not tempt me.'

He smiled and brought his lips closer to her ear.

'Or we could lure everyone to my house under pretence of a family meeting and simply exchange rings. Tell only a few people who need to know, your parents and mine, and forget about daunting week-long celebrations.'

She looked up at him over her shoulder.

'You _are_ tempting me.'

He chuckled and turned her around.

'Only a little. If you have no wish for such things, we do not need them. But you must realise you rob me from the opportunity to show to all Tirion how lovely you are.'

'That is not convincing me, you are aware?'

He grinned at her mischievously.

'No, but I am working on better arguments.'

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Aewendîs: aewen: plural of bird, and dîs: bride

Ardhion: ardh: realm, and ion: son, scion, male


	39. What Lies Beyond

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

Well, it's two years and a day after I first began posting this. I had planned to be finished by now, truth be told, but it didn't turn out that way. ;) (Thanks for reminding me of the anniversary, Pulsarkat, I probably wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't mentioned it.)  
Thank you to everybody who has been around in those two years (and especially those who have been there from the very beginning and are still hanging around, all of you talented writers who I simply I don't review enough). I'd offer you chocolate elfies, but I'd rather give you all a big hug. :)

**Jacqui**: You asked what elvish translator I use, it's DragonFlame (a wonderful program indeed). There's a link to where you can download it on the links page of my website, I think.

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**Chapter Thirty-Eight What Lies Beyond**

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'How can you expect me to simply call everything off as if it means nothing to me? So many preparations have been made, so much work has been done, the entire city of Tirion is awaiting it with bated breath. Have you any idea what will happen when everything is cancelled? The rumours? How people will react?'

In fact, Elernil did know, or could at least imagine something of what the consequences would be. Sitting in the chair he had risen from when Ereinion had entered, only moments later followed by Aewendîs, he listened to her speak from by the window, her back towards him, and heard her mention everything that he had listed in his head himself, long before he had even contemplated going to Fingolfin.

'Had I been able to speak with you earlier, it might not have come to this. But I thought you did not want to see me. I thought that perhaps you did love him.'

She turned around abruptly, breathing deeply as she met his eyes. She wanted to speak, then shook her head and turned away again, hugging herself as she looked out over the gardens behind Fingolfin's halls. Hesitantly Elernil pushed himself up from his chair and walked over to her, careful to leave her enough space to go wherever she pleased. Away from him, if that was what she preferred. She remained where she was.

'If you do love Ardhion this does not matter,' he began. 'You can go back to your parents and go on with the betrothal ceremony tomorrow. I promise I will not stand in your way, not if that is what makes you happy. But do not do this because... I do not wish to do this out of spite, as if I would not want him to have you if I cannot have you. But if you care more about... someone else, you should not let this go on.'

Aewendîs shook her head.

'Ardhion offered me something, something tangible. No one else ever did.'

'Then everyone else was a fool. Is a fool. I _am_ a fool. I should have offered it, I am offering it, if you still want it.'

'What are you offering me, Elernil?' she asked, not meeting his eyes.

'I can only offer you a fool for a husband. Only you can decide how much it is worth that this fool loves you, and would care for you, if you allowed it. I love you, Aewendîs, and I should have told you I did before, long before today.'

'You say that so easily now...' she whispered.

'Because I am in abject terror of what can happen,' he told her softly. 'As matters are, I speak because I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. If this changes nothing, you go out and betroth yourself to Ardhion tomorrow. If it changes something, I might be given a chance to make up for my past mistakes.'

Resting a hand against her warm cheek, Aewendîs was torn between reason and the longing to believe him. Had he told her these things months ago, she would have fallen into his arms and would be in the same situation now, only with no doubts as to the elf to whom she was to betroth herself. But she had responsibilities towards Ardhion, responsibilities to her family.

'I deserve you believing I speak of these things lightly,' Elernil continued, chipping away steadily at her resolve, she was well aware. 'I deserve it if you tell me I mean nothing to you, and that you will go to Ardhion tomorrow and take his ring without a second thought. Would you decide to call off the betrothal you have some difficult steps ahead, do not think I am not aware of that. But better now than in a year's time. Better now rather than take another step towards living a lie. I will stand beside you. If you do change your mind, I _will_ be there. If you want me to be.'

'Will you stand beside me as I tell Ardhion?' she asked, doubting still, doubting ever. 'Will you be there when I have to break this to my parents?'

'I will be beside you. And I will tell them all that it is my fault. That I was stubborn, and stupid not to tell you sooner, and that I will do everything I can to make up for their losses.' Catching her hand he squeezed it lightly. 'I cannot be the only one thinking this is all a nightmare?'

Aewendîs looked at him standing beside her, lost as soon as her eyes met his. She could pretend all she liked, but the decision was already made. It was made when Ereinion stepped into the garden this morning to ask her to come. Whether Elernil took the first step or if she did, neither of them could tell. But then her arms were around his neck as he held her firmly, whispering his thanks against her skin, finding her lips with his only a moment later.

'Do not make me regret this, Elernil,' she told him softly when she could.

'I would not,' he replied, releasing her a little to wipe the insulting tears from her cheeks. 'And not just because Ereinion will kill me if I did.'

She smiled at him through her tears, and right then and there, they both knew that it would be well. The difficult part would be to convince the rest of the city of Tirion.

——

'Call it off,' Ereinion said simply, making certain his words were registering with Aewendîs. 'Do not make a fuss about it, simply speak to Ardhion first and explain the matter to him, then tell your father and leave it to them. You worry about the consequences, but realistically you have not even exchanged rings. Imagine going through a public return of rings. Now _that_ would make people gossip.'

'I know,' she sighed. 'Do not think I have not considered that.'

He smiled apologetically, looking behind him where Elernil and Celebriníel were walking arm in arm, no doubt discussing a similar subject.

'I promise you there shall be something to take the weight of public scrutiny off you and Elernil soon. Come and stay with me or my parents if you wish to be away from home in the coming days, you are more than welcome.'

'It should not be necessary,' she said. 'No one would want me to make the wrong decision, would they? My father might accuse me of being flighty, but he knows. He asked me about Elernil once, shortly before Ardhion came to me. I should have explained to him then, it would have made matters easier. Both Elernil and I have behaved foolishly. Perhaps we deserve each other.'

He smiled at her unhappy face and sat down beside her, catching her hand.

'Perhaps you do. But instead of focussing so much on the immediate present, think of what lies beyond. The moments you will be able to spend in each other's company, all the things waiting to be discovered and experienced together.'

Bowing her head, Aewendîs smiled, nodding slowly.

'It was the thought of that which made up my mind, even before I realised it.' Looking up, she watched him stare into the garden, knowing very well what drew his eye to it. 'And what of you, then? Have you kept yourself from making your old mistake anew?'

He smiled.

'This is so different. There is no way I could have remained silent on it, even if I tried, Eru be my witness. My own weakness might very well have been my rescue.'

Pressing his hand, she nudged his shoulder.

'Have you asked her yet?'

He raised an eyebrow at her.

'What do you think?'

'Oh! Ereinion, she said yes? She must have said yes, I am really not paying attention, of course she did...'

He laughed, shaking his head.

'I beg you to be quiet on the matter; we have not told anyone yet.'

'I will not speak of it to a soul.'

'She is not certain about how to announce it, and I do not think I am either. I have attempted to convince her to elope with me, but she did not consider that to be an option either,' he added light-heartedly.

'Right now, I would advise you to announce it suddenly and run, personally,' Aewendîs smiled. 'Which comes close to eloping, but is not quite that.'

He nodded.

'I might just suggest that to her. I just might.'

——

'What would you do if I came to you and said I loved another?'

Ereinion had observed Celebriníel's silence since she had left Elernil's presence but had not commented on it. Now it seemed he had to. Halting, he shook his head once.

'Jump off a medium-height cliff.' She poked his ribs firmly, making him smile. 'All right, all right, I would let you go, but only if I was certain that you really loved that other. And I think I would fight to keep you.'

'Will Ardhion fight to keep Aewendîs?'

'I cannot say. I do not know how well he knows her. He might have suspected her doubts already. Or she might have hidden them from him well enough for him not to have noticed. If it is the latter, he might very well fight for her.'

'So what will happen now?' Celebriníel asked as she took his arm and motioned him to cross the street. 'How will they break the news to everyone?'

'Fingolfin will summon Ardhion and Aewendîs's parents, and the matter will be discussed behind closed doors. From there, it is up to them. I hardly think her parents will simply supplant Ardhion with Elernil and go on with the ceremony. The festivities will be called off.'

'You do not need to be there when this is discussed?'

'Not really, I would have remained had Aewendîs asked, but she seemed to be able to handle it. It might even be better if I were not there. I was the one who came to collect Aewendîs, after all, and in a way I helped set this in motion. That, and I have my own duties to take care of.'

'I see,' Celebriníel replied, giving him a look that was only half-serious. Giving her a smile in reply, he took her hand.

'I was given some advice this afternoon. To announce our betrothal and run, not waiting for anything that would follow it. And it might not be as bad an idea as it sounds.'

'Could we do that?'

'We can do anything we like.' He winked at her.

'So you keep saying,' she remarked with a grin. 'But since you bring this up, it must mean you have given it more than just some casual thought.'

'Well, not much more than some casual thought, I must admit,' he said apologetically. 'But some. There shall be a meeting at Fingolfin's halls soon, it is meant to discuss matters within the family; marriages, betrothals, arguments, that sort of thing. It is usually more about arguments than marriages and betrothals, but nevertheless. We could announce it then, and make for Imloth once the meeting ends. We would be out of the city by the time word is out.'

'So you say. And when is this meeting going to take place?'

'I honestly cannot remember,' Ereinion said merrily. 'But your brother will know.'

She smiled.

'Somehow I think Elrohir will soon have other things on his mind.'

'Yes. Which reminds me, one of the secondary consequences of announcing our betrothal soon is that it might also take some of the public scrutiny away from Aewendîs and Elernil.'

Nodding thoughtfully she met his eyes.

'We will have to tell my parents. And yours.'

'We might break it to them now, before they hear of what is currently happening in my grandfather's halls.'

'Perhaps we should inform them of that first, and then break the news of our betrothal.'

He frowned at her teasingly.

'Are you using Elernil as a cushion?'

She breathed deeply and nodded.

'If we are to be his publicly later on, why can he not be mine now?'

'Because I do not plan on speaking to them of Elernil before he has been able to speak to them first. They would blame him for not speaking, and he would not be very grateful to me for it.'

'I suppose you are right. How do you plan to go about it?'

'I am clueless,' Ereinion shrugged theatrically. Usually he was good at talking himself in and out of situations, but this one could prove to be one of those he would break his tongue over and ruin instantly. Celebriníel's eyes glimmered in amusement when he met them.

'What else is new?'

Her hair danced as she fled from his pretended offence and tickling fingers. Nerves were ruling them both on their way through the city, and the only way to spend it seemed to be in teasing each other until they found themselves opposite the house that was to be their destination.

Extending her hand, Celebriníel had found some courage Ereinion thought he was currently lacking. But he caught her hand nevertheless, and let her lead him across the street, entering the gates. At the front entrance she halted him, somehow sensing his apprehension.

'Do you want to go into the gardens first? Or do I run the risk you will flee if we do that?'

'I might flee yet,' he whispered, looking down at their hands meeting. 'And I am not entirely certain why.'

'He will not bite. He has worries, yes, but he has them because he does not have all the answers. Just like you and me and everyone else. He knows as well as we do that betrothals can span years. He knows.'

Ereinion raised a hand to touch her face, brushing his fingers past her cheek.

'Are we talking each other into this?'

'If we could be betrothed by simply saying yes to each other here in the doorway, would you do it?'

He looked up at her directly, not wavering.

'Yes.'

'Then I do not think we are talking each other into this. Though I might be talking you into telling my father, but that is a different matter entirely. I could go alone, of course, if you would prefer that.'

Breathing deeply he shook his head.

'I have to face him one of these days, so better now than later. It would hardly do to keep away from him until the day we announce it, would it?'

Touching his cheek she smiled comfortingly, making it easy for him to remember why he was here, as his stomach fluttered pleasantly at the same time. What had he told Aewendîs? Think of what lies beyond? To have her come home to him from the library, cheeks red in enjoyment of her afternoon, to listen to her new findings, as he sometimes did now? The images came to him quite clearly, suddenly, of her fingers brushing some hair away from his face, a warm languid kiss on his cheek, lovemaking in his bed at Imloth, such a transgression of thought before, but an actual possibility now.

Dragging himself back to the present he found Celebriníel enraptured with looking at him, as if she had been able to read all his thoughts off his face, as if they had been written there. He smiled, feeling hot, suddenly much surer of what they were about to do. Stepping closer he kissed her, wishing to feel her warm lips on his more than anything he could think of. One of her hands tangled in his hair lightly as she pressed closer, gasping softy as he pulled her against him.

Finally releasing her he could only smile, and used the feeling of happiness coursing through him to enter. It did give him courage, as if he was drunk on it, he thought, entering the cool hallways of the house.

The house was remarkably quiet, making Celebriníel suspect most of its inhabitants had gone out to see the preparations for the celebrations. A sense of disappointment mingled with relief came over here; she had automatically assumed her parents would be here, where they could very well be elsewhere. They might have a little more time in which to plan how to exactly do this.

As they stood waiting, listening, attempting to judge what their next step would be, the sound of soft voices came to her from one of the garden rooms. She had heard them often enough to know to whom they belonged. As had Ereinion, it appeared. Quietly they made their way there, still hand in hand, and stood in the doorway a moment, watching Elrond and Celebrían sit quietly together, speaking of matters to be taken care of at Imloth. It was Celebrían who discovered them first, looking up with a smile.

'Ah, you have returned from the city. Briníel, we wanted to discuss something with you, but you were gone early this morning.'

Celebrían rose from the seat she had been sharing with Elrond, who released her hand slowly, apparently reluctant to give it up, nodding at Ereinion in acknowledgement as he sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

'After the festivities your mother and I shall be going back to Imloth. Now we want to leave the choice up to you whether to join us or not...'

'There will be no festivities,' Ereinion interrupted, less gentle than he had intended.

Celebrían turned from the window.

'No?'

Ereinion shook his head.

'My cousin has decided not to go forward with it after all. And there are certain circumstances which make it a rather delicate matter... I am... not at liberty to say more of it now. But the ceremony will be cancelled, and I expect the festivities will be also.'

'We are sorry to hear that.'

Ereinion nodded, staring at his hands a moment.

'There is something else I should speak to you about though. And you must forgive me, for I fear I shall fumble with words a while before I get it right.'

There was something in the way that he said it that made Celebrían return from the window, rather than remain there. His mere tone of voice had made it quite clear what it was he wanted to pronounce, strangely enough, even before he could speak the words. Perhaps for the better, giving Elrond enough warning to prepare.

Celebriníel motioned him to sit down, which he did, then whispered something Celebrían could not quite catch. Ereinion shook his head in reply, pulling her down to sit beside him, hands together, fingers entwined. It seemed his strength came from her presence.

As she reached Elrond, she found him sitting back in his chair, a hand to his chin, infinitely more comfortable than Ereinion. If Celebrían had worried he had not caught what lay beneath Ereinion's earlier words, those worries were now expelled. He knew what would come. The question was whether he would let Ereinion stumble on alone, or dispel all awkwardness quickly by revealing that he knew.

Ereinion breathed deeply, summoning control as he would have in a council.

'I...'

'Perhaps it is a good idea for this to stop,' Elrond interrupted slowly but clearly, watching the confusion on Ereinion's face a moment.

'Stop?'

'Hmm, yes, you acting as if I shall forbid you to enter my daughter's presence ever again if you say something I do not like.'

He could not keep back as smile as Ereinion's confusion turned into a reddening of his face and ears.

'I cannot help but consider you might think it is all going too fast...'

'I might,' Elrond said, leisurely rising from his chair. 'But in the end it is not my decision, and it never has been.' He met Celebrían's eyes, then turned to watch Celebriníel, who smiled at him in reply.

'He asked me, Ada, and I accepted.'

Elrond did not return her smile, not at once, but let an intake of breath he had not realised he had been holding escape first. He felt Celebrían's hand come to rest between his shoulder blades, a comforting gesture he did not think he had ever appreciated more. It was easy to embrace Celebriníel as she rose to her feet, and if her beaming smile had not convinced him already, she whispered enough to him that would.

'I love him. I wish for this.'

He embraced her more closely. Apparently, that was enough.

'So the time has come.'

'Yes,' Ereinion replied, also rising, more nervous than he had been willing to show before but also more relieved.

Releasing his daughter, watching her embrace her mother, Elrond turned to Ereinion.

'When will you announce it?'

'During the upcoming meeting at Fingolfin's halls, if you will permit it. The laws of the Eldar dictate that it shall stand for at least one year, at which point Celebriníel will have reached her majority.'

Ereinion was unaware of how much he had wanted the embrace until Elrond pulled him into it, shortly and firmly, both vow of friendship as well as consent. As he stepped back, holding on to his arms, Ereinion thought that in neither of his lifetimes there had been a moment when he was more happy.

'I will take good care of her.'

'Oh, I know,' Elrond said with a small smile. 'I trust you to.'

'Is it going fast? It feels as if it is time for this, it feels as if I have known her forever, and this is only the logical next step.'

'Who am I to answer that?' Elrond said, with a shake of the head. 'The two of you must decide, not anyone else.'

Nodding, Ereinion watched Celebriníel a moment, waiting arm in arm with Celebrían. Stepping aside, Elrond caught the hand Celebrían offered, and watched the embrace between Ereinion and Celebriníel follow.

Quiet chuckles and whispers followed, an almost hidden kiss, and then they separated again, both flushed, both glowing in happiness.

'You were the first we told,' Celebriníel said breathlessly.

Celebrían laughed.

'Then get you gone and to Fingon's house. I am certain they will wish to know as well.'

Ereinion nodded, bowing his head shortly.

'Thank you. Both of you.'

Elrond smiled.

'Go, before the rest of the city deducts what is gong on by your shared radiance.'

And they went, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible out on the street, not entirely succeeding. Ereinion hoped their laughter would be settled as something to do with the current celebrations, rather than future celebrations, but Celebriníel's chuckle was enough to stop him worrying.

From the garden Elrond and Celebrían watched them go, and then decided on a stroll to allow for everything to fall into its proper place again. If Elrond frowned as they passed beneath the gate, it was more of amusement than anything else.

'Did you notice?' he asked thoughtfully, more occupied with what his mind was formulating than to be answered. 'He did fumble. Or he would have, had I let him.'

'He is not Gil-galad, I think you mean to say.'

'Well, he is, of course. But different. I never knew him like that.'

'Do not forget that when you knew him, he had more experience than you had, and now he finds you have the advantage over him in some ways.'

'I am not certain whether that is what it is,' Elrond remarked softly. 'In Middle-earth he would have walked in and told me of his plans as he did so, revealing the information he thought was necessary for me to have, finishing before he had even reached the centre of the room. There was little opportunity for contradiction; it was what the high king had planned. Had he done that now, it might have been easier, but it would not have been right. However vague that sounds.'

'I think you have said before that he does not hide everything he feels now as he did then.'

'That might be the reason.'

'Does it matter?'

'No.' He smiled. 'Not at all.' He was silent for a while, then laughed. 'I do hope she puts him through the agony you put me through.'

Raising a teasing eyebrow, she smiled.

'You expect them to wait as long as we did, El-nîn?'

'If I recall correctly, the year before our marriage alone was pure agony, Brí,' Elrond replied dryly, not meeting her gaze. 'Which is what I was referring to.'

Continuing their stroll, greeting some people here and there, Celebrían lowered her voice.

'Agony, hmm?'

'Um-elleth...' he brought his lips close to her ear so only she could hear. 'You drove me insane, and you are well aware of this. I even suspect you did it quite on purpose as to take a kind of revenge on me for making you wait so long.'

'Oh? And how did I accomplish this? To drive Master Elrond of Imladris insane?'

'You still do it,' Elrond said darkly. 'Those so-called innocent touches which no one else notices, but make me...' He did not finish the sentence, but gave her a meaningful look.

Pressing her lips together, Celebrían tried not to laugh out loud.

'I see. I will be certain to inform Briníel of this.'

Elrond pursed his lips.

'If you wish to estrange yourself from me, do indeed.'

Halting, she met his gaze resolutely, exacting some pressure on his hand.

'Never that.'

Locking his eyes with hers, Elrond smiled and brought her hand to his lips.

'Shall we go back?'

She smiled.

'An excellent idea.'


	40. The House of Fingolfin

**High Princes of Tirion  
**by Nemis

AN: I want to thank RoseRed2 for secretly feeding my plotbunnies the past days/weeks/months. For those who are interested, a ficlet she wrote taking place before the start of this story can be found on my website, starring Eldarion and Elernil, and I do recommend her story _Tapestry_, so go read it (right after you read this chapter). I was going to put a little bit of an extra scene in this chapter which I've been promising her for some time, but it got moved back (again). It should be in the next chapter though (and if it isn't she is allowed to take her revenge). ;)

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**Chapter Thirty-Nine The House of Fingolfin**

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**

Her breath came and went against his skin as they waited; listening to the silence to convince themselves the darkness held none except them, and that no one who had by chance observed them entering followed. He was certain she could feel the exact beats his heart pounded from where she rested her hand against his chest. Whether that had anything to do with their current concealment or something else entirely he was currently not at liberty to predict.

'Are you certain we are alone here?' he finally whispered, breaking the quietness.

'I think so,' she replied, beginning to trail kisses down his cheek to his neck, as his fingers tangled in her hair, the touch rough with passion. 'Does it matter?'

He smiled, closing his eyes.

'Not really. Except that it does, because after being so careful it would hardly do to be caught at...'

Just then her lips met his and effectively silenced him, making him forget what he had wanted to say. She was good at doing that. This was all foolishness, entirely inappropriate, without purpose, and yet it made his stomach tumble in excitement, almost as an involuntary reaction to her passion.

And then she pulled away, or was about to, and disturbed something in the darkness. He pulled her back as something shattered on the stone floor loudly, and then reacted quickly by pulling her along and around the corner of the dark room, further out of sight. They would remain undetected in case someone would open the door to take a cursory glance. As soon as anyone actually entered to investigate what exactly it had been that had crashed to the floor...

The door opened, as he had expected it would, and the bright light that came in through the large window in the hallway shone in and chased some of the immediate darkness away. The beams of light came just short of where a green vase lay shattered on the flagstones. He prayed that he had been right in thinking that anyone standing in the light would have difficulty discerning anything in the darkness.

They both held their breath, afraid to move, desperate to avoid discovery. After what seemed to be an Age the door closed again and they heard footsteps retreat, muted voices conversing, and finally slowly disappearing out of hearing distance. They both breathed deeply once, and then she dissolved in chuckles against him, as he closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall, attempting again to regulate the pounding of his heart.

'...nearly caught by my parents,' she managed to laugh, holding on to him desperately. It was difficult not to join her, her mirth contagious.

'It would hardly do, Brí,' he told her, trying to keep his face straight.

'Yes, but think of it, El-nîn, after being so successful at not getting caught for such a long time it has to come of it at some point.'

Celebrían's eyes glittered with laughter, and allowing a smile to slip onto his lips Elrond pulled her closer, feeling her arms slip around his chest.

'I should think that I have every right to sneak off with my wife,' he whispered to her lips.

'Mm, I never said you did not.'

He nodded, all attention focussed on her.

'I did not think so.'

Her laugh was silenced by his kiss easily. The tension of before transferred itself easily into a more passionate enthusiasm. It was difficult enough to keep away from difficult questions so shortly before the family meeting that was going to take place, even without shattering earthenware to give them away; especially within their own family everyone appeared to believe both he and Celebrían knew everything there was to know about the announcements that were going to be made tomorrow. Which they did, of course, up to a point, but secrecy was secrecy, and even if they were apparently the only ones that kept to it, that was how Elrond preferred to go about the matter. The trick was to find somewhere no one expected them to be in order to have some peace. And finally they appeared to have been successful, he smiled to himself, as he deepened their kiss.

-

Pocketing his hands, the youngest High Prince of the city looked up at the brightly blue afternoon sky from his garden, and reflected that eleven days had flown by with perhaps a bit too much celerity for complete comfort. There had been many things to consider in light of the announcement that was to take place tomorrow, despite the fact that there were not going to be any official celebrations. Somehow preparations had accumulated little by little, mostly to do with his departure from Tirion, and with the accumulation had come a steady increase of worries, mostly, Ereinion thought, on his side.

Needing some time to shut out everything going on around him, Ereinion thought back to the day when he and Celebriníel had informed his parents of their betrothal, just after they had told Elrond and Celebrían. Especially the manner in which his father had quietly beamed through the whole thing, while his mother had remained peacefully radiant, both their enthusiasm almost too large too keep still, came to mind. He had stressed then that because people would not know, there would be little fuss about the matter beforehand, intending it then to be an argument for them not to worry.

So much for that. They might not have told anyone directly, but he was quite certain they had told people to be present at the meeting where the betrothal would be announced. As opposed to Ereinion's expectations, the meeting was to be highly attended; usually people had a tendency to come up with plenty of excuses not to have to be present. Partly it had to be because people wished to know the truth of the matter of the affair concerning Aewendîs and Elernil. Whether or not they would get it officially, the meeting would be the perfect place to gather information they had not been able to obtain already. And Fingon insisting with only so many words that they came was good incentive too, no doubt, because that promised something additionally important, whatever it was.

But none of it could be helped now. With the family meeting taking place the next day, everything was as ready as it would ever be, and if it was not Ereinion felt too nervous to do anything further about it. So nervous actually, that he had quietly retired to the garden of the house hoping it would discourage anyone to try and find him when they did not find him in the study. He was hosting an informal dinner party this evening, and in not too long a while his guests would begin to arrive, and at least until then he needed some time to himself. Dinner was all well and good, and it was likely to be a welcome distraction, but he was uncertain whether he would actually be able to eat.

Just as he found an entirely new matter to worry upon, an arm slipped through his, and content eyes, mirroring the colour of the sky, put his mind at ease almost instantly. With no effort at all, she could make everything much, much better. Smiling, Celebriníel leant her head against his shoulder, exacting some pressure on his arm, watching the stretch of sky he had previously been occupied with.

'I arrived early hoping to catch you unengaged. Does the sky have anything interesting to tell us?'

'Ultimately, it will probably just turn out to be pretence of good weather.'

She chuckled, let her hand slip down his arm to catch his hand, bringing it up to press her lips against it.

'You sound like you expect rain?'

Filling his lungs he let the air escape audibly. If he did expect rain, it was probably figurative.

'I know everything is ready, but I cannot help feel there must be something very small but important that I accidentally missed. Nothing of the sort is the case, of course, but the feeling is disconcerting.'

She smiled.

'It surprises me that I am not scared. I am a little nervous, but not scared.'

'Oh, I know nervous,' he said, kissing her temple.

Taking a deep steadying breath, she nodded.

'Elladan had just arrived with Aurehen and Almarinde and Almariel when I left.'

'Do they know?'

'I am not certain. If they do I suspect someone has urged them not to share that information with me,' Celebriníel replied, stroking his arm absently. 'I am simply fortunate no one expects I can tell them much about the meeting, so they do not ask me. My parents have made themselves scarce, because it is apparently believed they must know everything.'

Ereinion sighed.

'In all honesty, I am beginning to suspect everyone already knows, and just is not telling us that they do.'

'It is very possible. You were aware my grandparents arrived yesterday?'

He looked at her incredulously.

'No. You are making this up simply to tease me, I am sure of it.'

'Partially, perhaps, just to see someone actually be more nervous than I am,' she grinned, 'but they did arrive, and they did plan to join the others for your dinner tonight. I thought you might have known because they are staying at Fingolfin's Halls.'

Breathing deeply he shook his head.

'I have mostly been busy running my own errands the past day, not catching much of anything people tell me. Coming down here was a very bad idea, because instead of some peace of mind it is giving me time to think. Ah, but before I forget...' He released her hand and rummaged around in his pockets a while before coming up with two boxes. 'One of these is supposed to be in your keeping.'

With a small smile she held out her hand for one of them.

'How long have these been ready?'

'For the larger part of a week,' he grinned apologetically. 'But I kept postponing picking them up, so in the end Tarancarion simply sent them over, accompanied by a note saying I would do better not to forget these in case I was announcing something important tomorrow.'

Celebriníel looked up at him, fingering the box.

'Should we fit them? Or is that inappropriate?'

Ereinion shrugged.

'Best to be certain we have the right ones.'

Opening the small box he had kept he set eyes on the silver ring there, not for the first time, but he was still amazed by the craftsmanship. These rings appeared plain things, but he knew for a fact that they were not. The smith had not only chosen a worthy grade of material to work with, but had also put quite some work into the details that made something so simple into something quite amazing. When the light caught the metal, the almost indiscernible engravings became quite clearly visible, revealing exactly how much effort their creator had put into them. Taking the silver band out he waited for Celebriníel to offer a hand, slipping it easily unto her finger, after which she did the same with him.

'I doubt they could have been any more perfect,' Celebriníel remarked quietly, looking at it on her finger.

Ereinion was forced to clear his throat when his voice would not accommodate him at once.

'You are certain you want this?'

She caught his hand before she met his gaze, taking it between both her hands. It seemed he was going to repeat that question every chance he got until she had convinced him of her feelings completely.

'If I have ever wanted anything before in my life, this is it.'

He bowed his head a moment and smiled when raising it again.

'I ask, because while the announcement of the betrothal is to occur publicly, the laws and customs are unclear on whether the actual betrothal is to be a public or a private affair.' He raised a hand to move a strand of silver hair behind her ear, allowing it to linger to caress her cheek. 'And this seems an infinitely better time to exchange rings than tomorrow in a crowded hall.'

'I agree.'

Ereinion breathed in deeply and finally chuckled, smiling at her apologetically. Slowly they were finding the right way to go about this, merging the official and the unofficial, which felt like it mattered so much more. He shook his head.

'This would be so much easier if we simply...'

How well she understood what he was trying to say only became clear as she stepped closer and slipped an arm around his waist, meeting his lips with her own in the gentlest of ways.

Celebriníel could never quite get over the exhilaration of feeling his lips against hers, their warmth, and the warmth their proximity released all throughout her body, and that was without even taking his inquisitive fingers into consideration. He would explore her face, or touch her neck, quite innocently, but it tended to affect her in such a way that it became something nearly indecent. He could make her cheeks flush a bright red with as little as a whisper. The only thing that made up for it was that she could only look at him in order to take his breath away, enchant him with no words or touches whatsoever so that he forgot everything around him.

It was difficult to keep her mind from running away with her, attempting to picture what the coming days would bring, the liberties their new status would provide them with. Her world had been relatively restricted to Imloth and her family, and his was so large, and the two were about to coalesce even further than they already had here in Tirion. It was both exciting and daunting, but she was determined not to let anything discourage her. As long as they were together, there was nothing that could touch her, or either of them.

Time was gone as far as the both of them were concerned, until one of the attendants came to inform them several of Ereinion's guests had already arrived, and the absence of their host would begin to become slightly awkward if it continued much longer. The guests in question, it turned out, were Ereinion's parents and Elrond and Celebrían, soon followed by Fingolfin and Anairë, together with Galadriel and Celeborn. Elrohir and Mîrlinde arrived last, in the company of Elladan and Aurehen, excusing Elernil who had promised to keep an eye on his young cousins this evening.

Possibly due to Fingolfin's presence, much of the conversation during dinner was of trivial matters; the state of matters at Imloth, family members that had recently arrived, the coming harvests, and the construction that was being planned in the northern parts of the city. Whatever was going to happen tomorrow, someone had decided it was out of bounds as a subject of conversation tonight, and everyone was keeping to it. Ereinion happily resigned himself to that, and soon found himself thoroughly enjoying the evening.

Later on, circling the party in order to make certain everyone was as comfortable as possible, he found Galadriel by the window, apparently purposely having removed herself from the conversations going on in the rest of the sitting room. He would have left her, since she evidently wished to be alone, had she not spoken to him quietly before he could move off again.

'I imagine many things have become clear to you,' she said, her eyes fixed on something in the dark outside, perhaps a light burning somewhere across the city, but more likely on nothing specific at all.

It was a strange thing to bring up, after the subject had been avoided for most of the evening by everyone else. She knew what would happen tomorrow then, he decided, or she had recognised what was between Celebriníel and him and was referring to that. He could not find it in himself to be taken aback; if anyone would have noticed, it had to be her.

'Did I ever tell you about the dream?' he replied quietly. 'I believe I told Elrond about it after he arrived on Aman, but I doubt he remembers now, it was a trivial thing at the time.'

'It was a dream?' Galadriel asked, not really sounding surprised.

Ereinion nodded.

'Silver hair. But it was not Celebrían.'

Galadriel stepped aside, away from the window and met his eyes, smiling.

'No, it was not Celebrían.'

Self-consciously he looked at his feet, then back up again.

'I discarded it, did not even consider it, not even after Briníel was born.'

'It is always difficult to predict such things, even if you are given some indications. It becomes even more difficult to determine anything when your own feelings are involved.'

He gave her a slow nod, his mind suddenly drifting to all the questions he had asked himself so many times before.

'But why so long ago? Why then if it only becomes important now?'

'I could give you reasons, very likely the same you have already come up with, but as you have discovered they mean very little. It might have been meant as a promise, something to make you realise that what you considered mistakes you made might not have been mistakes at all. At least not mistakes in the sense that would make them into grave misjudgements. Instead it might have been an indication that those choices and sacrifices worked towards and contributed to something that is only becoming clear now.'

He breathed deeply and turned to the room, away from the dark night outside, watching the people sitting and standing there, family, one which he belonged to already, and would soon be part of in yet another way.

'No one can truly ever know what sacrifices shall bring, then.'

Galadriel pressed his arm sympathetically.

'Not ever entirely for certain, I have come to suspect. But does it matter, here, now?'

He wanted to look back at her, but his eyes had come to rest on Celebriníel, who was enthusiastically conversing with Celeborn and her father, and he could not think of a real reason to shift his gaze. He was all too aware of how she could catch his entire being and hold it by simply being present somewhere nearby, and make everything else in his life appear utterly unimportant. The mere touch of her lips upon his made all his worries vanish like snow from the sun.

'No, it does not.'

Perhaps that meant that he did not live in the past any longer, and had not for some time. Galadriel said nothing, merely smiled and left him to join her daughter.

There had been many changes in a relatively short time, on so many different levels. Patience had never been a strong point in his character, but there was no way of ignoring it in this instance. He had not been untruthful in declaring that a betrothal could stand long, spanning years, but he would ever be impatient. In his heart he would have her sooner rather than later, unfair to her as that was. He had wanted the betrothal for love itself, and to make it clear to Celebriníel he was serious, that he meant what he was saying. And he wanted it because it would allow him to make her happy.

Would it become easier from tomorrow onwards? he wondered. Maybe it would, just a little. People would become used to the idea, the gossip and rumours that would no doubt have taken place had they waited longer had largely been avoided, and it left them relatively free to spend time as they pleased, without anyone holding it against either of them.

He wandered into his study, which lay adjoining the room they were all in, and made his way onto the balcony, where he breathed in the cool evening air, allowing it to soothe him. It suddenly seemed as if life lay beyond tomorrow entirely, as if there was nothing in the past that mattered before; the past existed, but almost as if it was a story he had heard once, not years of experience that he had actually lived before.

For the first time in his life, in any life, he was going to be an engaged man, he belonged to her as she belonged to him, not some unfair, ambiguous connection, but a real one, a true one. It made all the things he had ever thought, all the things he had been certain on before, utterly unclear. As Gil-galad, he would have been able to explain what love was, quite eloquently even, but now he was not so certain that he could any longer. He just knew that it was what he felt for Celebriníel, and that it was powerful, and equally selfish as it was selfless.

'Most assuredly one of the more curious abstract concepts in existence,' he mused.

'Is it?' someone asked from somewhere behind him, but he did not need to turn to know she was there on the threshold of the balcony. Instead he reached out a hand, which she was already on her way to catching, and pulled her beside him.

'I think so. I have never been so uncertain about something that I am so sure about.'

'You outdo yourself in your usual vagueness, Reinion,' she smiled, pressing his hand.

He smiled at her, nodding.

'I am aware.' Breathing in, contently, he shook his head. 'There seem to be so many things we still have to discuss between us. What do we really know of one another?'

'I suspect that is what the betrothal is all about,' she replied, 'because we have a feeling in common, and we have ventured just beyond acquaintance appropriate for general civility, and two rings and some words spoken in public will allow us to venture further.'

He chuckled, nodding.

'That does sound accurate. I had never considered it quite that way.'

'We know the unimportant things, favourite colours and favourite foods. I know you are quite good at equestrian gaming, and that you are rumoured to have looked very impressive in shiny armour once upon a time. We have talked about books and authors, but if you have a favourite I have not discovered yet, and there must be hundreds of other things like that, large and small.'

He touched her cheek lightly, making her wish for a fuller touch.

'Those will be the easy things.'

'What do you imagine will be difficult?'

'I cannot say yet. The things you anticipate will be problematic often turn out to be the complete opposite. The real difficulties are often not foreseen.'

She stepped away, letting her hand slip from his.

'I know you wish to warn me, but I refuse to let those things worry me. There are going to be so many more happy moments, and I would much rather concentrate on those.'

He embraced her tightly from behind and held her close, bringing his lips to her ear as she rested her hands on his arms.

'Tell me what would make you most happy right now.'

She spoke quietly, looking at the lights of the city before her.

'That I did not have to go.'

He smiled into her hair, holding her closer.

'Tomorrow, by this time, we shall be at Imloth, and we will be able to spend as many evenings in gardens and by the fire as you desire, and just about anything will be possible. We can spend our nights sitting on balconies and look at the firmament until Anar chases Isil away and no one will be able to tell us not to.'

Celebriníel closed her eyes, nodding almost imperceptibly.

'But there is still so much of this night still remaining, and it would be easier to pass it with you.'

He made her turn in his arms.

'Do something for me?'

Touching his lips with her fingers she only nodded. Ereinion caught her hand and held it against his chest, looking at her intently.

'You go with your parents in a while, and when you get home you get yourself to bed, and worry about nothing. The whole of Tirion already knows you are lovely, and without realising it they already know I love you more than life itself as well. We are not going to tell them anything they do not know already tomorrow, and afterwards there is nothing that does not lie within our grasp.'

-

Unlike previous occasions, Ereinion was not much involved in the logistics of planning the feast that made up the core of the family meeting or the meeting itself. In the past he would often greet guests in his father's and grandfather's place, a worthy replacement able to answer in-depth questions on Tirion politics from those who lived too far away from the city to have much access to such information, and fill in any gaps in gossip they might have picked up. He had always more or less enjoyed the task, but in hindsight he was glad he had been excused this time.

This time, he arrived late, only minutes before Elrond and Celebrían would with Celebriníel, the intention being to sweep in for the announcement and out again without too much bother. If his absence had been noted, it was apparently deemed of little importance. The meeting was running its course much as it was intended to; the family members had already been provided with food and drink and had cheerfully taken advantage of the opportunity to discuss anything they wished with cousins they had not seen for years. It was his father who approached him before anyone could stop him for anything more than an amiable greeting.

'Fingolfin will do some short announcements after Celebriníel arrives, and then he will give you the opportunity to speak for yourself. Once you finish he will take over again, and you will be able to slip away without too much trouble, we predict.'

Ereinion nodded. This was how it had been planned from the very beginning.

'You will have to excuse us to everyone.'

Fingon grinned.

'They have known you longer than today; it will come as no surprise to them that you are running off to Imloth, I suspect.'

Before he could think up a worthy reply to his father's words his grandfather had entered the halls and was asking for the attention of the gathering. He could be mistaken, but it seemed to Ereinion the crowd was silent quicker than usual. Fingolfin smiled brightly and nodded in appreciation.

'I have some short announcements,' he began, 'and then my grandson has something to tell you as well, I believe.'

Had Fingolfin not had an impeccable control of his demeanour, Ereinion feared everyone would have been able to guess what he was going to make known right then and there. It suddenly seemed so obvious that for a moment he wondered why they were not congratulating him already. He took a deep breath as his grandfather continued speaking and looked over his shoulder, finding Celebriníel nearer than he had anticipated. He smiled at her, not having noticed her entering before, and she smiled back, inclining her head slightly.

As he turned to face Fingolfin again, he was overcome by a feeling of exhilaration. That smile, that confident, not entirely innocent, marvellous smile that he had once predicted would be the end of him had been able to instantaneously chase all his fears away and remind him that nothing mattered except this. This stream of thought caused him to miss Fingolfin's prompt, but his father beside him was quick to call his attention back to the matter at hand with a nudge to the shoulder.

Stepping forward with a smile and a shrug back at those in the hall observing, causing some hushed laughter, and in so doing gaining their complete attention, he turned fully towards the assembly. As he allowed for a quiet moment in which to take a look at the crowd, he recognised many people, great names and great deeds, and his prepared speech suddenly seemed silly. It was her face that fortunately made something else take its place. It would hardly have done to stand before his entire family lost for words, what with his reputation for expressiveness.

'Firstly,' he began, 'I wish to bid you all welcome, especially those having travelled from outside Tirion. As my grandfather stated, I indeed have an announcement of my own.' He looked down at his hands, slowly turning the silver band on his finger. Then he looked up and held out a hand for Celebriníel, who seemed intent on ignoring everyone in the hall except him. Perhaps that would have been a better strategy to begin with, Ereinion reflected, as their gazes locked and their fingers entwined. It was easy to change strategy, so without looking away or releasing her, he began to voice what had been the gist of what he wanted to say.

'Very recently, it was pointed out to me that oversights can turn out to be something entirely different; sacrifices bringing us more than we ever could have envisioned.' He smiled at Celebriníel and breathed deeply, turning to the rest of the hall. 'I cannot say how much I deserve it, but I have had the honour and pleasure of the acquaintance of this young lady for a long time now, and it has given me more than I could ever have hoped for. She owns my heart, and I dare say she has given me hers. We stand here today to announce our betrothal.'

The silence that fell between the end of his sentence and the wave of sound that followed from the all was mercifully short, and a mixture of cheering, congratulations and whistling commenced loudly. Ereinion felt Celebriníel beside him exact some pressure on his hand, making him look at her, relieved, happy, beaming. The next thing he was aware of was his father embracing him firmly, then his grandfather, kissing Celebrían on the cheek while meeting his mother's eyes over her shoulder, and extending a hand to Elrond who pulled back from embracing his daughter.

He was too overwhelmed himself to remember exactly where they were supposed to go, but Fingon ushered them towards a set of doors easily as Fingolfin began speaking again.

'In due time you shall all be informed when the marriage is to take place, naturally, and we hope you shall all...'

It was the last thing he heard before the doors closed behind them and they stood in an empty hallway, the two of them, out of breath, tingling all over, somewhere between ready to dissolve in chuckles and bouncing around in celebration. But it only lasted until the need to kiss her became even more urgent, and they reflected there was no reason not to give into it.

* * *

Yes, I know this took an absurdly long time, and you all have my apologies. I mostly blame it on a distinct lack of time, linguistics exams that just cannot be humanly (or elvishly) passed and general university craziness. There's really no way to predict when the next chapter is going to get done (unless someone wants to take some work off my hands and write my BA thesis for me), but I do plan on getting it done at some point, and preferably not taking another six months. 

In any case, after (pretty much) forty chapters, thanks for reading!. :D


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